To Come Through
by Lesera128
Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set beginning during 7x13. WARNING FOR SEASON 7 SPOILERS. Complete.
1. Ch 1: Breaking Point

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes/Spoiler Warning on the Story: **Fair warning to those are wary of season 7 spoilers (particularly unaired episodes 7x7 through 7x13). If you're worried about being spoiled….turn back now. Seriously. I mean it. I really mean it. Last chance for after this point, here be dragons...  
><strong>

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

Okay…

So, anyone still with me?

If so, this story is a bit of an experiment for me in a few ways. First, there are some vague tidbits out there―on which I'm basing this story―that after Pelant's latest crime spree, something happens that "changes" Booth and Brennan's relationship forever to the point that it's been said people will ask how could one of them have done that. This is my take (a dash of spoilers, a dollop of vague snippets from the show's writers and actors, and a whole lot of speculation) on what happens. The second reason I wanted to write something like this was to do something that was slightly experimental in form, heavy on the dialogue, but short in word count. So, while each chapter will be linked to the one that comes before it, I'm hoping to keep it to two thousand words or less. I'm not quite certain how many chapters there will be, but my goal is to wrap it up before the finale actually airs in May. We'll see what happens. Now, with that said, onward and upward.~

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><p><span>Chapter 1 - Breaking Point<span>

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><p>He stared lovingly at his daughter's eyes.<p>

He loved watching the baby―looking at her when she was awake or asleep or even when she was cranky and yelling her head off. He loved her. In some ways, she was the best thing that had come out of all the murder and mayhem wrought by Jacob Broadsky the previous year. Of course, he loved her mother…but, with Christine, he knew that the love the daughter felt for her father would never go away. After the decision he'd made today, he wondered if the same could be true of her mother's love for him.

It took exactly fifty-four minutes for exactly what he expected to happen to actually happen.

Five minutes after he'd sent the email to Andrew Hacker and cc'd Sweets on it, a skittish and clearly pale psychologist had bounded into his office. He was sweaty and out of breath when he finally got to Booth's office, and he hoped against hope he wasn't too late to undue what Booth had done. But, Booth had outmaneuvered him again. After all, one didn't get to be a Ranger without some cunning. When Sweets got to his office, the door was shut, the lights were off, and the room was empty. Booth was gone. He'd had a headstart on Sweets, and therefore he had a headstart on his daughter's mother.

He made it to the house and gotten rid of Max with a brief explanation as to why he was home unexpectedly at such an early time into another twenty-nine minutes. That left approximately twenty minutes he had to set himself up and figure out if he could actually go through with answering her questions once she cornered him about what he'd done without telling her.

He heard the roar of her Prius motoring into their driveway, the jangle of her keys, the thud of the front door being slammed shut, and the pounding of her feet on the wooden stairs indicating that she'd finally outpaced him by three minutes. She'd made it home only fifty-one minutes after he'd sent the email.

And, when she began to move systematically from room-to-room in search of him, he was surprised that she didn't come straight to their bedroom. He'd taken the baby there and sat with his back pressed against their bed's headboard at a slight angle, the baby laying on his chest as father stared at daughter. Then, after another two minutes, he heard the tell-tale clips of Brennan's heels on the hardwood floor of the hallway outside the master bedroom. Shortly after that, her bedraggled and confused face appeared in the doorway of their bedroom. Her eyes were slightly wild, and she seemed to be gasping for breath―no doubt because she'd been rushing to find him since he'd sent the email, left the Hoover, and turned off his cell phone.

At last, as she took a step towards the bedroom, careful to keep her voice low and modulated even as he saw the surprise and hurt and rejection and fury in her eyes.

"Why did you do this?" she finally asked. "Tell me, Booth. Why?"

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><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	2. Ch 2: Out of the Need to Control

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

Author's Note: A few people have asked both via PM and review, if I have access to any special spoilers, etc. I think I'll probably save some time here and give a blanket answer―although I'm probably going to lose some readership by saying this, the answer is no. There are spoiler websites out there, and most of what we know about the season finale has come out in the slew of interviews that happened shortly before, during, or after Paley last week. Alas, I'm sadly in the same boat as the rest of you on that point. On a separate note, while I can't guarantee daily updates, the beauty of doing short pieces like this is that it's much more manageable to do than chapters that range c. min. of 4000 words (average chapter of "Eighteen Minutes") or c. min. of 8000 words (average chapter of "More From Brennan's Journal") or c. min. of 10k words (the short end of a Dharmasera piece), so it does make daily updates more likely. But, now, for today's tidbit….~

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><p><span>Chapter 2 - Out of the Need to Control<span>

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><p>He knew that would be the first question that she would ask. After what he'd just done, and knowing her as well as he did, how could it not be? In truth, he'd been thinking about what to do for weeks…he'd felt his world spiraling after the baby had been born. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but so much change and so quickly.<p>

_And I can't control any of it_, he'd thought miserably. _None of it—none at all._

And, then Pelant had threatened it all―Brennan, their daughter, Parker, their home…in three simple words…_his entire_ _world._

Taking a breath, he resisted the urge to shift too quickly lest her unsettle his daughter into a crying jag. As his eyes glanced down at Christine once again, he saw the baby had gone from peacefully dozing to now watching him in silent observation.

_She's an old soul_, the random thought suddenly bounced into his mind using a term that his grandmother had used to say. _And, a watcher_, _too―just like her mother._

Licking his lips, he looked up and said, "I tried telling you…I needed to do _something_."

"Yes," Brennan agreed, crossing her arms as she took a step towards the bed. "You did tell me that. But, I thought we agreed, Booth―"

"No," he interrupted her, his voice taking just a tad louder pitch than he'd intended. He glanced down at the baby and saw Christine's brow furrow in contemplation. Forcing his chest to relax, he lowered his tone and said, "We never actually finished talking about it, Bones."

"Well, we need to talk about it now," she said. "Because, obviously, this isn't going to work. It's not―it's not feasible, Booth…not after almost seven years."

"It'll have to be," he answered after a moment. "I've made my choice, Bones. This is the way it has to be. There's no other way I can protect you and the baby―"

"I can protect myself," she said. "Just because we're in a long-term monogamous relationship doesn't mean that everything about who and what I was changed, anymore than it did to you." Shaking her head, she looked down at the floor. "Pelant…what happened with him, I know it scared you, Booth―"

"You have no idea," he said sharply, his eyes staring at her wide as he slowly shook his head. "You have no idea, Bones―none at all."

"That's not fair," she quickly countered, a look of pain crossing her face. "I have just as much to loose now as you do…maybe even more, Booth. This family…our life…_our family_―it means everything to me."

"Then, you should understand, Bones," he said, his voice tinged with the exhaustion he'd come to feel so astutely in the past few weeks. "I'm doing what I feel I've gotta do."

"But, Booth―"

"No," he insisted, feeling the small amount of control he'd so happily wrapped his fingers around once he'd sent the email at threat to disintegrate if he caved to Brennan's logic and rationality…or, perhaps, even worse, the most recent tactic she'd learned and had become quite adroit at using when it suited her in the time since they'd admitted their love for one another and come together―emotional pleas.

"Booth," she said, taking another step towards him. Slowly, she came towards the bed and sat down. "You know…this won't work, don't you? Because the control you think this is going to bring you…it won't work because…it's like I've tried to tell you before, Booth. The control? It's an illusion…there's no such thing as control of events―only of your emotions and actions."

"You're wrong," he said with a shake of his head. "You're wrong about this one, Bones―and by doing this, I'm going to show you. I'll prove it to you...I can do what I need to do to keep you and the baby...keep you all safe. You'll see."

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><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	3. Ch 3: What He Did

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

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><p><span>Chapter 3 - What He Did<span>

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><p>She stared at him for a moment, and then slowly shook her head. "You know…I can't support this decision, Booth. It's the wrong one to make."<p>

"You're entitled to your opinion," Booth acknowledged her words with a nod of the head. "But, you're wrong—and even if you can't see that, I'm going to do what I have to do to protect our family."

"By resigning as the liaison to the Medico-Legal Lab?" Brennan asked. She looked away from him for a moment, and then tilted her head back so that her gaze met his as she asked, "Do you remember once you told me that as long as you and I were strong…that since we were the center, everything else would take care of itself?"

"Of course," he said. "It was at Hillside Park—after the Eppes case."

"Yes," she nodded. Looking away, Brennan she stared at a point on the far side of the bedroom wall that was closest to their walk-in closet. Suddenly, a piece of the knockdown wall texture seemed very interesting to her. After a moment, she sighed and her voice became softer as she said, "It took me a long time to realize how correct you were, Booth—you knew it even then, but I didn't listen…maybe because I wasn't ready to listen. But, you were right. Our work—what we do at the lab…it only works if the center holds. I think if any thing my time in Maluku taught me besides the fact that I really loved you and wanted to be with you, it was that if you and I aren't here, the rest of it doesn't work."

"Bones—" he began softly.

Shaking her head, Brennan looked back over at Booth. "I can't make the same mistake twice. And, without you, I'm only half the center. I can't do it without you, Booth. And, if you're not there, the center will collapse in on itself, and our family at the lab will be destroyed. I can't…I won't do that to them again. We were lucky to be able to come back from it the first time. I don't think we should be foolish enough to think that we can attain the same feet twice given how overwhelmingly the odds are against us being successful if we break out the lab again."

"I know you care about the squints and everyone at the lab," Booth said, raising a hand as he gently gestured at the baby on his chest. "But, what about our family _here, _Bones? What about us?"

"I don't see why it needs to be an either or choice," Brennan said. "You were the one that taught me that we can have more than one type of family…so, where is the rule written that you can only have one family at a time?"

"There's no rule," Booth began hesitantly. "But, there has to be priorities. And, by resigning the liaison position—"

"And, unilaterally ending our partnership," Brennan interjected.

"Our _professional _partnership," he amended her statement. "Our _personal_ partnership is just fine, Bones. It's right here, right where it's always been…strong and healthy and safeguarded within the walls of this house because I'm doing what has to be done to protect it."

"You've put me in an untenable position, Booth," she said with a shake of her head. "Do you know what Cam said as soon as Sweets called me? I was on the platform when I took the call, and the first thing Dr. Saroyan said after I hung up the phone and briefly explained what was going on and why I had to leave so abruptly during the middle of a necropsy was she looked at me point blank and asked me what had I done to make you do this…she was blaming _me_ for what had happened."

Booth was quiet for a moment, and he sat up a bit straighter as he saw the look of flustered agitation cross Brennan's face. He shifted the baby slightly as he sat, his arm coming to cradle her as he moved. Christine mewled slightly at being disturbed, but didn't start crying.

Once he was upright, Booth's face softened as he said, "I'm sorry, Bones. This isn't your fault. It's my choice, and I'll talk to Camille—"

"No," Brennan said. "She said it to me. The last thing I need to do is have her think I complaining to you and having you fight my battles for me now that we're more than just professional partners. I'll handle it."

"But?" Booth asked.

"But," Brennan nodded, because there was always a but. "You do know that by doing this, you're giving Pelant _exactly _what he wanted. He's wrecking havoc and creating chaotic dissension from within, Booth. He's destroying everything that we've worked so hard to achieve, to build—"

"Not everything," Booth said, as he began to rub Christine's back. "Not everything, Bones—not the most important part…not by a long shot."

Shaking her head again, Brennan scooted towards him, reached out, and took his free hand in hers, intertwining their fingers before she spoke. "You think that now…but, if you do this, you'll see. I know it, Booth. If he succeeds in destroying our partnership…it'll only be a matter of time before he destroys our family, too."

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><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	4. Ch 4: Remembering Pelant's Threat

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

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><p><span>Chapter 4 - Remembering Pelant's Threat<span>

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><p>The baby—perhaps sensing that she was no longer the focus of Booth's attention—began to mewl a bit from where she lay propped against Booth's shoulder. Reaching for her, Brennan nodded, "Here, let me take her."<p>

Wordlessly, Booth placed a soft kiss on the top of the baby's head and handed their daughter over to Brennan. She stood up slowly, murmuring soft words of reassurance to the baby as she moved, knowing the key wasn't to startle her out the sedate mood into which Booth had lulled Christine.

Brennan turned to face the door and then said over the curve of her shoulder, "Let me put her down and then we can talk some more, okay?"

Again, he nodded in silence.

As he watched two of the three most important things in his life disappear out the door of the master bedroom, Booth couldn't help but feel a familiar tightening in his stomach as he recalled the last conversation he'd had with Christopher Pelant before the hacker had disappeared for good from the safety of his home and the monitoring system that had cloaked him as he committed his most heinous crimes.

"_I've heard you're a spiritual man, Agent Booth," Pelant had said from where he sat quite casually on the arm chair that he'd arranged perpendicular to his couch. Gesturing with the book that was in his hand, Pelant said, "For all the things technological that have interested me over the years, that technology has always been the means to the end, you know? In actuality, it was the quest for truth that's always fascinated me."_

"_And, I care about this why?" Booth muttered, trying to keep the edge in his voice from transitioning into a full-blown growl._

"_I didn't say you did," Pelant shrugged jovially. "I'm just making conversation here, Agent Booth…you can leave any time you like, but as we both know_—"_Pelant stopped and lifted up his leg, tugged at his pant leg to reveal the acrimonious ankle monitoring system that had given him a greater freedom than it had ever possibly constrained him, and then grinned when he pointed at it with his thumb. "Since I'm sort of stuck here, I have to make due with what I can to pass the time. And, since my probation officer's kind of picky about what I'm allowed to read, well_—_I have to keep myself occupied in the search for more than one kind of truth with what I can."_

_Booth narrowed his eyes at Pelant, but said nothing as he waited for the criminal genius to finish telling him what he really wanted the FBI agent to know._

"_I assume that a good Catholic boy like you's familiar with the concept of the Beast?" Pelant asked_.

"_The Book of Revelation," Booth instantly answered. "The Beast came out of the Abyss."_

"_Very good, Agent Booth," Pelant grinned in a displeasingly pleased and smarmy manner. "Very good. So, of course, you know that the Beast's a metaphor for_—"

"_The Devil," Booth finished the sentence._

_Pelant's eyes narrowed as he nodded slowly, "Evil incarnate."_

"_What are you trying to tell me?" Booth suddenly muttered._

_A flash of something shone in Pelant's eyes before he smiled jovially again. "Why, nothing, Agent Booth. Remember…I'm just making conversation." He stopped and then tilted his head as he said, "Of course, the important thing to remember is this…the Beast? He always hunger for the best. He loves all souls, but the brightest and the best? Those are the ones he especially loves damning by marking the most innocent of them with his bite and consigning them to oblivion." He stopped as he then gestured with the book, almost as if the thought were suddenly occurring to him. "There's nothing quite so innocent as a new soul, is there, Agent Booth? A new soul, a new life?"_

_Booth was off lurching forward and his hands wrapping around Pelant's throat before his mind even realized what his body was doing._

"_Touch her…even think about coming near her after this minute, and I will destroy you," he muttered into Pelant's ear as the hacker began to choke from the tightness of Booth's hands around his throat._

_He released his hands only when his rational mind reminded him that he couldn't very well protect his family from behind a set of jail bars himself._

_Pelant stood once Booth had released him, coughing as he began to rub his neck and then shot the agent another infuriating smile. "Sore spot, Agent Booth?"_

_Booth turned around and didn't bother to give Pelant the satisfaction of a response. And, less than six hours later, that was when Booth got the call that Pelant had disappeared for good._

Booth swallowed once as he realized just what he was keeping from Brennan—what he had to keep from her to keep her safe…because ending their partnership, Booth knew, wasn't going to take her and Christine out of the line of fire as far as Pelant was concerned. But, by ending the partnership—at least, for now—it was going to free Booth enough to do what he needed to do to protect them...even if she couldn't know what he was really doing and why.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	5. Ch 5: Done Talking

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pellant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

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><p><span>Chapter 5 - Done Talking<span>

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><p>It bothered him feeling this way―keeping things from Brennan, feeling as if he couldn't control anything, and knowing his loved ones were under threat. It frustrated him, and it was that frustration that resulted in him staring off into space when Brennan returned from putting their daughter back in the nursery.<p>

As she entered the bedroom, she shut the door behind her. Walking to her side of the bed, she grabbed the baby monitor from her nightstand, adjusted it so they could hear if Christine began to cry, and then set it back down on the table. Turning around, she looked at where Booth was still sitting on the bed and not really paying attention to what she was doing.

Frowning, she walked around to his side of the bed and knelt in front of him. Leveling her questioning gaze at him, she asked gently, "Booth?"

As she said his name, it was more the sound of her voice than the fact that she was kneeling in front of him that pulled Booth away from his thoughts about Pelant.

He blinked a few times and then snapped out of his reverie. Brennan watched him, the concern clearly growing on her face.

"Is she okay?" he asked after a moment.

Slowly, Brennan nodded. "Yes, she's fine." She was quiet for a moment and then said, "Are you?"

He paused for another minute and then grimaced before he nodded. "I will be."

"Why am I not certain I believe you?" she asked as she reached out and began to lightly play with a bit of mussed hair that was at his temple.

"You know me, Bones," he told her, forcing himself to put a large smile on his face. "What you see is what you get."

"Yes," she said. "You've tried to play up that particular portrayal of yourself before, Booth, and I think we both know that I know better than that about you, don't you think?"

Resisting the urge to frown, Booth mentally cursed as he realized that Brennan was getting better and better at reading him. _And, normally, that's a good thing…but not right now_, he thought. _Not right now_.

Deciding that a more…subtle tactic might be more effective, Booth narrowed his eyes as he reached out and gently grabbed the hand that was playing with his hair. His irises had already started to darken as he tugged on her arm, gathering her towards him. Brennan, curious to see what he would do, allowed herself to be pulled towards the bed so that her body quickly covered his.

His hands immediately crept underneath the fabric of her knit top and had slowly made their way up the smooth skin of her spinal column as he sought out the clasp that held her bra closed.

"I thought," Brennan moaned slightly, as she unintentionally closed her eyes at the feel of his hands unclasping the bra even though her shirt was still on her body. "I thought we had to talk."

"We've done a lot of talking already," he said as he pushed her body off of his ever so slightly and his hands snuck underneath her arms and slid around to her front so that he could cup her full breasts under the fabric of her now loose bra. "I don't want to talk anymore."

"But―" she protested.

"No," he said firmly, as he used the callused pad of his thumbs to tease her delicate nipples into tight peaks beneath her shirt. She moaned at the sensation, his touch affecting her even more than it had before she'd gotten pregnant, as her breasts had become highly sensitive since she'd had the baby and started nursing Christine on a regular basis. Booth, aware of this, used that knowledge to his advantage to distract her as he tweaked them to her painfully pleasurable delight. "Enough talking, Bones. I don't wanna talk right now, okay?" he growled again, his voice rough and gravelly with a barely controlled desire that had seemed to have manifested itself out of the blue.

For her part, Brennan rarely turned down Booth's sexual overtures unless physical illness precluded their coupling. Thus, it wasn't really a surprise when he felt her resolve crumbling as she shifted her hips and spread her legs slightly apart so that she was no longer laying prone on top of him, but was straddling his groin. He thrust up into her so that she knew he was more than ready for her despite the impromptu nature of what was quickly degenerating into a sexual encounter that neither one of them had really planned.

Reaching down to grab the hem of her black skirt, Brennan mentally congratulated herself for deciding to wear that particular easy access piece of clothing when she'd dressed that morning. Hiking it up her thighs, for some reason she could tell enough about Booth's mood to know that what he wanted from her wouldn't allow time enough to for the removal of all their clothing.

Her instinct was confirmed when he reached down, quickly unzipped his jeans, and pulled himself out. It took a little shifting on both their parts, but when he pushed aside her panties and slid home, a cloud of anger filled lust drew him forward in his actions. He rolled them over, so that he pinned Brennan underneath him with a grunt. And, when he felt himself begin to spend, the only thing that echoed in his mind was that he would be damned if he'd let a bastard like Pelant take away anything from him

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><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	6. Ch 6: Visiting a Depressed Shrink

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6 - Visiting a Depressed Shrink<p>

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><p>The next morning, Booth found himself knocking on the door frame of psychologist's Lance Sweets' office. He hated coming to the shrink's floor, and much preferred to when Sweets came to him, but time was of the essence, and he didn't have time to wait until Sweets stopped feeling sorry enough for himself to come out of his office and find Booth to give him the signature he needed.<p>

"Hey, Sweets," Booth said, his voice deceptively chipper as he ducked his head in the door. "Up and at 'em."

The younger man, looking quite wane with his wavy hair dull and flat and dark circles under his eyes, tilted his head as he glanced up when Booth interrupted his work.

"Agent Booth," Sweets sighed. "Hey. What can I do for you?"

"How's it going?" Booth asked, coming into the office and ignoring Sweets' question.

Booth glanced down at Sweets' desk and saw that it was covered with various yellow legal pads upon which the psychologist's tell-tale scribbles could easily be seen. Underneath the scattering of legal pads lay different sheets of papers and photographs of crime scenes which Booth immediately recognized as having been Pelant's handwork.

"I, uh―" Sweets sat a bit straighter in his chair and then gestured vaguely with both hands. "I've been working on trying to refine Pelant's profile in light of his escape. I know you wanted me to keep working on his background...his past, like we talked about, to see what might be there that could be used against him? I, uhh, I'm not certain, but I think I may've found something."

Booth nodded as he came forward and stood next to the desk. Since his break up with Daisy Wick two weeks before, Booth had hoped that Sweets wouldn't take the break up quite as hard a kick to his romantic heart as he had the first time almost two years earlier. However, if anything, the prolonged nature of his amorphous relationship with Brennan's forensic anthropology intern had hit him even harder the second time than it had the first. Having been in his shoes before, Booth could recognize the younger man's coping mechanism of throwing himself into work as a distraction.

_And, if that's what Sweets wants to do to get over the kick to the nuts he's taken, then I'm all for it_, Booth thought. _I just wish he'd realize that he's in a much better, much stronger place to deal with this crap than he was the last time. I mean, look…after what happened yesterday with me sending the email, he didn't do the trite thing and ask about me and Bones as soon as I showed up, so that alone says the kid's learned something over the last couple of years. He'll be alright… I just which he'd mope a little less until he realizes that. The guy looks like he keeps wanting a hug from Papa Smurf to make him feel better. Geez_―

"Got any new ideas?" Booth asked.

Sweets stared at one particular legal pad for several long seconds. He then sighed as he sat up in his chair and arched his back in a stretch as he rubbed his tired eyes.

"Like I said, I think I've got a lead on something, I just don't know what it is...I think it's staring me in the face, but I still don't have enough knowledge to recognize the worth of what I'm actually seeing. I feel like I'm missing something, and it's making me feel really, _really _stupid," Sweets said as he swallowed a yawn. "I'm not certain what it is, but a deviant mind like Pelant's doesn't do anything on the spur of the moment, and I think this is connected somehow. His pathology is such that part of his gratification is not only derived from seeing the results of his plan in action, but quickly going on to the fifth, sixth, seventh, etc. moves he's already set up to follow whatever one we're just finding out about now. It's like chess for him…but chess, amped up on steroids, to the power of say...like a thousand. It's the strategy that he's using against us that's what he really gets off on…his intelligence is just a means to an end that he's using to employ that strategy."

"Then, if we can find out how he thinks, and how he plans, then we should be able to figure out what type of strategies he likes to employ," Booth said quietly, almost more for himself, as he thought out loud, than for Sweets' benefit.

"Yes," Sweets agreed with a nod. He then paused and said, "But, as you know, that a lot easier said then done. So, aside from knowing that his arrogance and desire to proclaim the 'truth' as he sees it are contributing factors to his psychosis, without knowing what the final triggering incident was that signaled his decision to leave the safety afforded to him by staying under house arrest and wearing the ankle monitoring system…well, I've been pouring over this stuff for three days, and I've got nothing."

At the words 'final triggering incident', Booth couldn't help it as his thoughts darted back to Pelant's conversation with him. He hedged about telling Sweets about the conversation, but he knew that if he volunteered the information about Pelant's veiled threat to his family, Booth would have his ability and freedom to do what he needed to compromised―and, after going so far as to sever his partnership with Brennan, losing the opportunity to catch Pelant was the last thing Booth was going to do.

_I'm sure that Sweets will figure it out_, Booth thought. _He's a bright kid. I'm sure he can find out whatever it is he needs to find out about Pelant's brain from what he's got in front of him…a little talk with me really isn't that important in the grand scheme of things, so yeah_―

After a minute, the pair remained quiet, and Sweets sighed again. He then nodded at the sheet of paper that Booth held. "What do you want me to sign?" Sweets asked, his demeanor changing slightly as he tilted his head to look at the FBI agent.

Boot swallowed a grimace and then said, "Uhhh, this is that thingy that I need that confirms you've released me from my psychological review evaluations since I'm no longer gonna be working with Bones―"

At this, Sweets' demeanor shifted once more as he leaned forward in his chair, an eyebrow arched as he asked, "So, you were really serious about that, huh?"

Booth could only groan as he realized that the discussion he didn't want to have with Sweets was apparently happening after all.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	7. Ch 7: Still the FBI Liaison?

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7 - Still the FBI Liaison?<span>

* * *

><p>Booth stood next to Sweet's desk, his jaw hardening as he tried to keep as cool and calm a face possible as he waited to see what the psychologist would do next.<p>

After a minute, Sweets―as Booth knew he'd be the one to do―cracked first. With a sigh, he reached out and took the piece of paper that Booth had wordlessly extended towards him. He glanced at the familiar standard form, saw Booth had filled out every line but for his signature, and sighed.

"You really want me to sign it?" Sweets asked, lifting his tired gaze to meet Booth's insistently stubborn one.

"Yes," Booth answered simply. "You know where."

Sweets reached for that he'd been taking notes with earlier, set the form on top of a relatively flat patch of one of his stacks, ran his other hand over the slightly wrinkled form and smoothed it out, and held the pen just above the dotted line.

Booth swallowed a smile._ Heh, _he thought. _How about that? I didn't think it'd be that easy_―

But, when Sweets hesitated for a minute, he then sighed and looked back at Booth.

"Agent Booth―"

Booth immediately groaned. _Yup, I knew it. Nothing's ever that easy_, he sighed quietly.

"Sweets, just sign the damn paper," he muttered.

"But, once I do this, you know that it's as good as me officially saying I think that you dissolving your partnership with Dr. Brennan is a good thing―both for you, her, and the Bureau. And, we both know I don't think that's true in any sense for any of you so―" Sweets said. "Come on…at least tell me why."

"First," Booth said. "It confirms the end of my _professional _partnership with Bones…our personal relationship is just fine and dandy, thank you very much. Second―"

"Wait," Sweets interrupted him. "So, you actually talked with her about this? And she agrees?"

Booth frowned for a moment and then said, "Bones and I talked about it, yeah―"

"And, she agreed?" Sweets pressed again, quite skilled in knowing when Booth was trying to evade answering something after years of being his psychologist, co-worker, and friend.

"Look, Bones―" Booth stopped as he considered the way in which Brennan had all but said she didn't agree with him, wouldn't, and then, before they could talk some more about it, Booth had pretty much used sex to shut her up. He made a face and then said, "It's my career, Sweets. Bones and I―look, I don't want to talk about that, okay? Now, will you just sign the damn paper?"

This time, it was Sweets' turn to frown, he'd just opened his mouth with a clear look of displeasure on his face. However, he was cut off as Booth's cell phone rang.

Sighing, Booth shook his head as if to tell the young psychologist that there discussion wasn't over. Reaching into his suit jacket's pocket, he plucked out his cell phone and hit the button to answer the call. "Booth?"

"Seeley," came the sharp reply.

"Camille?" Booth answered with a frown. "What?"

"Simple question, Seeley―are you or are you not still the Jeffersonian's liaison at the FBI?" Dr. Camille Saroyan asked over the phone. Booth winced as he could sense some of the forensic pathologist's ire in her voice.

_Damn_, Booth thought. _Bones was right…Cam's pissed._

"I…" he stared at Sweets and pointed at the form. "No, I'm not, Camille―"

Sweets, whose obviously Vulcan hearing had picked up on Cam's question, shook his head. "Despite you email yesterday, until I sign this, you technically are."

"Even if the body I just got a call about looks like it might have Pelant's fingerprints all over it?" Cam asked.

Booth's eyes narrowed. _Wait…why in the hell is Cam getting a call before me?_

"Are you certain?" Booth asked.

"Not conclusively," Cam answered. "But, that's what my gut tells me yes."

"Where?" Booth asked, as he pressed the phone to his ear, grabbed a notecard out of his other pocket, and grabbed Sweets' pen out of his hand.

"The good news is you don't have to go far," Cam said.

"Why's that?" Booth responded.

"All you need to do is take the elevator downstairs. The body was found in the parking garage at the J. Edgar Hoover Building. Employee Parking…third level," Cam said.

Booth's hand slowed as he stopped writing and a familiar knot tightened in his stomach. "Third level?" he managed to ask, although he already knew that's what Cam had said. Not bothering to wait for her answer, Booth then quickly added before he hung up the phone, "We'll be right there."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	8. Ch 8: Another Message

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8 - Another Message<span>

* * *

><p>Special Agent Genny Shaw was actually the first person of any significant rank to reach the latest crime scent to which Agent Booth's field detail had been assigned. All things considered, it had been relatively easy getting from her desk in the bullpen at the Hoover to the third floor of the employee parking garage that she often trudged to after a tired day's work.<p>

As she watched the techs working to secure the site, she only gave an occasional answer since neither Booth nor the Jeffersonian crew had yet arrived. She made a face as she considered the scene before her: a relatively bloodless scene, all things considered. In fact, the majority of the blood lay confined to only a couple of spots…the side of the black SUV car where it looked like several cups had been intentionally splattered, and where those cups of blood began to puddle as they dripped off the side of the SUV. A cryptic message was scrawled on the floor in front of the space in which the SUV was parked…again, in blood. Shaw squinted as she looked at the writing and tried to figure out what it meant.

_And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write:  
>These things saith he that is holy,<br>He that is true, he that hath the key of David,  
>Be that openeth and none shall shut,<br>And that shutteth and none openeth._

She reread the phrases several times, making several faces as she tried to figure out what the saying met. She was shaking her head, as she contemplated the message and stared at several pure white ribs lay splayed out in front of her around what had to be a bloody human heart. She was still squinting and running the words in her head around when she heard a rumble of several sets of heavy footsteps echo through the parking garage. Shaw quickly turned around when she knew that one of those rumbles could only come from one person.

"Shaw," came the gravelly voice.

She turned around and frowned a bit when she saw how tense and on edge her supervisor looked.

"What's the word?" Booth said as he stopped walking and stood next to Shaw.

"Agent Bettement was on his way home," she stopped and pointed to a tall man with dirty blonde hair that was standing a few feet away. "He was parked next to―"

"_My car_," Booth muttered, as he scanned the SUV that was now the focus of several FBI lab techs. "Oh, shit―I knew it. I just knew it. As soon as Cam said it was the third floor―"

"How did you know that?" Sweets suddenly chimed in, and Shaw turned her head to see the psychologist interject himself into the middle of Booth's annoyed ramblings. "How did you know that?"

Pursing his lips together, Booth said, "I just did. Okay?"

"But―" Sweets began.

Waving him off with a jab of his index finger, Booth said, "Listen, Sweets. If you want to shrink some, shrink that son-of-a-bitch Pelant, okay? You thought you were missing something, well, there's a whole bunch of new evidence that you can start plugging into your shrinky little analysis thing that you do, so why don't you stop obsessing about me and focus on him, okay?"

Sweets held Booth's annoyed and intense gaze for several seconds before he slowly nodded. "Okay." He stopped and then took a step closer to the SUV so that he could see the arrangement of the heart, ribs, and the message that had been left for all to read."

After a moment, Sweets frowned. Booth, who'd been watching Sweets, arched an eyebrow.

"What?" Booth asked.

Gesturing with his hand, Sweets slowly shook his head. "This…if this _is _Pelant…it doesn't make any sense."

"Why?" Shaw asked, unable to help herself.

Sweets let his eyes dart towards the younger agent before he nodded and said, "To date, nothing about Pelant's profile indicates any type of religious aspect to his mania. But, this…_this_―" he stopped and gestured to the message. "If this is him, we've got a big problem, because now he's quoting from the Bible and that's never a good thing."

"You said he's always been obsessed with the truth," Shaw comment. She pointed to one line as she observed, "It still seems that motif is present in this verse excerpt."

"Yes, but―" Sweets began.

"But, it's from the Book of Revelation," Booth muttered, cutting off the psychologist once more. "The Book of Revelation."

"I can't say that for sure without checking first," Sweets responded with a slight shrug of his shoulder. "I've never been that good on the whole bible quoting on demand stuff."

Stiffening, Booth shook his head. "It's from Revelation―trust me."

"If Booth's said something's from the Bible," a familiar voice said, causing Booth to wince a bit. "You shouldn't doubt his veracity. I would suggest you take him at his word as he's quite good at biblical trivia," Brennan said as she came to stand next to her partner. Her eyes quickly scanned the scene before her and then she turned to Booth and frowned as she asked, "What did he do to your car?"

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	9. Ch 9: A Displeased Forensic Pathologist

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p>Chapter 9 - A Displeased Forensic Pathologist<p>

* * *

><p>Booth watched as Brennan began to do a cursory examination of the twenty-four ribs that had been spreadeagled around the bloody heart that sat at the base of the parking spot in which he'd deposited his black Toyota Sequoia SUV less than four hours earlier.<p>

Since the only soft tissue to examine constituted the heart that had been left in the middle of the rib spread, there wasn't much for forensic pathologist Dr. Camille Saroyan to do until they got the remains back to the lab. That is, there wasn't that much for her to do regarding the investigation into what almost everyone believed to be Christopher Pelant's latest homicide. However, as she saw her old friend standing alone, several feet away from the SUV as Brennan and the FBI techs scurried about their work, muttering with a displeased look on his face, she decided to seize the opportunity.

Walking over to where Booth stood so that they were close enough that they could talk softly and not be overheard, Cam waited in silence for a moment. She didn't make eye contact or nod at him in acknowledgement or say anything verbally to let him know what she was thinking. Instead, she simply stood there and waited for Booth to speak. It was a tactic that had worked with almost every person she'd ever know―from her sister Felicia to perps she'd encountered in her days as a cop in New York to the squints at the lab to the men she dated. Really, the tactic had _always _worked...it had always worked except for an entire three people that she could think of in her entire life―her mother (that wasn't really surprising since she'd been the one to teach the tactic to Cam), Dr. Brennan…and the man she now stood next to in the parking garage. In effect, Cam reluctantly admitted to herself, it was Booth's stubbornness and occasional inflexibility that were probably some of the things that had both attracted her to him…and eventually lead to both their breakups. After all, it wasn't like she knew she should expect someone like Booth, given his background, to cave by her merely standing next to him radiating displeasure. Snipers, she knew, were patient people by nature, if not by training. Still, she couldn't help herself as she tried the tactic just because she wasn't sure how else to broach the topic of her current displeasure with Booth.

And, thus, she was quite surprised that just as she opened her mouth to speak that she suddenly heard a sigh from beside her followed by a single word.

"What?"

Slowly, Cam turned her head and looked at Booth, a measuring quality in her piercing brown eyes as she studied him.

"Seriously, Camille," Booth sighed again. "What is it?"

Her eyes widened a bit as she suddenly realized that the exhaustion heralded by the dark circles under Booth's eyes wasn't the only explanation for his out-of-character behavior.

"You're freaked out," she said quietly, her eyes darting around as she made certain that no one would overhear them.

Booth's own eyes narrowed for a minute, and then he smiled and shook his head slightly as an easy facade settled over his handsome features. "Just about how I'm gonna explain this to the motor pool. You don't happen to know how blood affects a paint job, do you? Because, I have a feeling I'm gonna catch hell about this whether it washes off or not."

Cam's lips pursed into a thin frown as she tilted her head and said, "Seeley, come on―"

"I'm fine, Camille," he said, his eyes turning to hers, and a sharpness coming into his voice as he repeated his statement and all the joviality evaporated in a flash. "_I'm fine_…now leave it alone"

Her brow furrowed as she said, "I've known you for how long and you're going to pull that big, bad brooding cop thing on me, Seeley…when I was doing it long before you, huh? Please." She stopped shook her head and then said, "Fine. You don't want to talk about Pelant, fine―"

"Thank you."

"Then, how about we talk about how your boneheaded ideas are messing with my lab?" Cam asked as she placed her hands on her hips. "You don't happen to have anything to say about that now, do you?"

Booth winced a bit at the tone in her voice, some of his stubbornness fading as she let the issue of Pelant fall away.

"Uhhh, Bones said you were upset about the news," Booth began.

Lifting one hand off of her hip and jabbing her index finger in the air near him, Cam responded, "You're damn straight I'm upset about the news. I mean, what gives, Seeley? You don't tell anyone that you're doing this…don't speak to anyone, don't consult anyone…not even Dr. Brennan?" Shaking her head, Cam's lips curled in obvious displeasure as she said, "That woman must have more patience than what God gave the average saint, because it doesn't seem like she's more than moderately annoyed at you for pulling this crap…and in the way you did it, too. I mean, if I thought anyone would be ready to put you in front of a firing range it'd be her, but no. She only said she'd 'talk to you and make appropriate adjustments based on the outcome of that conversation'."

Booth flushed a bit as he remembered that the result of that outcome had been an incredibly fast and hard pair of orgasms for the both of them since they'd never really gone back to talking like Brennan had wanted.

"―and, I said, fine," Cam continued, Booth only zoning back in after he pushed the thought of Brennan moving beneath him on their bed out of his mind. "Seeley, can you at least pay attention to me when I'm trying to read you the riot act, here? Seeley?" At last, Cam reached out and gave Booth a little poke in the shoulder as she muttered, "Booth!"

"Hey, yeah, what?" he came out of his own thoughts as he made a face and stared down at where she'd jabbed her finger at him. "Hey!" he said again. "That hurt."

"Oh, don't be such a big baby," Cam said. "Now, did you hear a word I said?"

Knowing dishonesty would piss her off more, Booth gave her a sheepish look as he shrugged his shoulders. "Uhh, no, Cam, I didn't―not really."

This time, it was Cam's turn to sigh again as she shook her head and said, "Okay, then just listen up right now, because here's the important part in a nutshell―if you think I'm going to let you do something that will tear my lab apart again after that shit that you two pulled two years ago when you went running off to opposite ends of the earth, you're crazy. So, I don't care what you have to do, but―fix this, Booth. _Fix it now_."

Cam then gave him one final cutting look before she turned away and moved back to where Brennan was working with the remains, Booth watching her as she went.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	10. Ch 10: He's Changed MOs

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p>Chapter 10 - He's Changed MOs<p>

* * *

><p>He knew it was late, but until he saw her standing in his office doorway looking as tired as he felt, he hadn't realized how late it actually was. Glancing out the window, he became aware of how a scene that had been illuminated by a faintly setting sun―surely, it hadn't gone down all that long ago, right?―had transitioned at some recent moment into one dominated by the inky blackness of late night. And, then, as if the rest of his body was catching up with his realization as to how long he'd actually be hunched over the chair in his office working, Booth realized how stiff his back hurt, how much his head ached, and how hungry he was.<p>

Coming forward, Brennan frowned as she gently deposited a small brown paper sack on the edge of his desk. "I figured you might be hungry," she said quietly. "I wasn't sure what you might want, so I just got you a burger and some fries."

Looking up, Booth smiled what was one of his first real smiles that he'd smiled all day as the tasty aroma wafted from the confines of the take out sack to his nostrils. "Thanks, Bones. Did you already eat?"

Brennan nodded.

"Angela ordered takeout at the lab. I ate while we were waiting for the results of Hodgin's strontium isotope analysis to see if the mass spectrometer might be able to determine any significant markers that might allow us to identify Pelant's latest victim." She stopped, stared at a large poster board that had been rigged up in the corner of Booth's office on a tripod, and saw Pelant's photograph in the middle of a circle of various headshots. "It _is_ him, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Booth nodded as he reached for the bag and pulled out the burger. He didn't even really bother to see if it had been prepared to his liking―although he trusted Brennan to know his preferences. He was just so hungry that he quickly peeled the white waxed paper in which the burger had been wrapped away and bit down into the juicy mess that awaited him. He sighed in contentment as he chewed, and Brennan watched him with an amused eye as he devoured what she'd brought him.

"You skipped lunch again, didn't you?" she asked.

Booth was grateful his mouth full of burger made it almost impossible to wince. Instead, he just shrugged.

"Booth," she responded with a slight furrow of her brow. "You promised."

As he finished chewing the mouthful, he swallowed and then gave his partner a sheepish look. "I know, and I'm sorry, Bones―it's just…this case. It's…just that, well...this morning? His MO changed."

"MO?" Brennan asked curiously. "I assume you aren't using that acronym to mean molecular orbital or microorganism?"

At this, it was Booth who rolled his eyes. "You know I'm not."

"Yes," Brennan smiled instantly, knowing her partner had gotten her rather lame joke. "I know you're not."

Walking around to the back of his desk, Brennan made her way to his chair as Booth reached inside the paper sack and withdrew a handful of mildly warm French fries. He offered one to Brennan, who merely shook her head politely to decline his offer, he shrugged, and then began to stuff them into his mouth. As he ate, the pair were silent for a couple of moments. Absentmindedly, as Brennan stood next to Booth's chair, and her hands crept out to his shoulders as he turned awkwardly in the chair at an angle to eat his late dinner. Feeling the tension in his shoulders and neck as she began to knead firm circles in his muscles, the stress she knew he must be feeling surely was overwhelming. Within a couple of minutes, Booth's efforts to gorge himself slowed as she continued to work the kinks out of his neck. Eventually, he stopped shoveling food into his mouth all together as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the arm of his desk chair and against Brennan's softness. The pounding in his head began to lessen a bit―whether it was from the consumption of his burger and fries, Brennan's magic fingers, or just her reassuring presence, he couldn't say."

After a minute, he felt her reach down and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Stop worrying," she said quietly.

Cracking open one eye, he asked, "Huh?"

"You're worrying," Brennan said. "I can feel the tension in your body already starting to accumulate once more in your upper muscle groups. And, seeing as how it might be construed as inappropriate to strip you naked in this office so I can give you a full body massage to ease those strains at the moment, I believe you're just going to have to 'chill out' until such a time as we can go home and do that."

A wry smile tugged at the edge of his lips as he said, "You want to strip me naked, huh?"

Playfully sighing in mock exasperation, Brennan replied, "Why am I not surprised that's the only part you heard me say?"

"Guy here, Bones," Booth chuckled as he pointed at himself playfully. "Duh."

His eyes darted to the white poster board and became a bit more serious as he stared at Pelant's hated face. "My truck was only parked there for four hours, Bones. He had to be waiting for me. That means he's got me under surveillance…watching me…possibly you, hell―he could have eyes on the whole team for all we know. He got into a federal building, past our safeguards, took his little artistic time setting up that message for me, and got out with no one any wiser." He stopped, sighed, and then added, "And, now he's quoting biblical passages. His MO has _definitely_ changed."

"I thought Sweets said his driving need is to search for what he deems the truth," Brennan said. Gesturing with her index finger, she asked, "What possible truth could you have to tell that is tied to all these other agents?"

The dozen or more agents that had given blood at the blood drive several months before that Pelant had used in his first crime scene had their pictures arranged in a circle around Pelant's mugshot. Booth had also reluctantly added his own ID photo to the circle after the discovery of this morning's crime scene.

Looking up, and feeling more weary than he realized in that moment, Booth slowly shook his head as he finally answered Brennan's question honestly. "I don't know, Bones. I just don't know."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	11. Ch 11: A Sneak Attack

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p>Chapter 11 - A Sneak Attack<p>

* * *

><p>Later on, Booth would look back and realize he should've known what was occurring as it happened, even if he didn't anticipate its occurrence as an actual viable possibility.<p>

One minute, he'd been in his office working diligently, trying to make connections between Pelant and what he thought the latest message the sociopath had left him might mean. A bag of burger and fries and one of Brennan's shoulder massages later, he found himself in her Prius and on their way back to the house. Brennan had convinced him that, given how late it was and how tired they were, it made sense for him to let her take him home, since his car was still in the impound as evidence to be processed anyway. She assured him that they could return with a fresh perspective early in the morning. He'd been so exhausted as he thought about the logic of her words, and they made so much sense, Booth didn't really bother to put up even a token fight when she smiled at him expectantly as she awaited his answer. So, he'd merely given her a tired smile in return, nodded, gotten up from his desk, cracked his back, pulled on his suit jacket, shut down his computer, dumped the garbage from his takeout dinner in the trash, shut the lights off, and locked the door to his office behind them before he let her lead him to where she'd parked.

He didn't even realize how tired he was until he woke up at some point between when Brennan had been pulling out into traffic on Constitutional Avenue and he woke up to see her merging onto the BW Parkway. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he gave her another wearily lopsided grin as he asked about Christine. Brennan responded with a simple smile of her own at mention of their daughter―she'd picked her up from daycare at the Jeffersonian before she'd met her dad at the diner when Brennan had picked up his burger and fries. Max had taken her to the house and awaited them there.

A short time later, when Brennan was pulling into their garage, and after they'd both trudged upstairs, said goodnight to Max, looked in on the baby, and then stumbled towards the master bedroom to get ready to go to sleep, Booth was mostly on autopilot. Figuring he'd mess with a shower in the morning, while Brennan was in the bathroom doing her nightly ritual of 'girl-stuff', he stripped down to his boxers and barely had enough energy to crawl underneath the covers of the duvet on their king-sized bed before his head hit the pillow, and Booth was out like a light.

Although Brennan was the only one who had realized it―because she'd stood leaning against the doorway that separated the master bathroom from the master bedroom watching him sleep for a while before she moved―Booth only had about a fifteen minute catnap under his proverbial Cocky belt buckled belt before he found himself awake once more.

It took him a few seconds to realize what was going on as his brain grudgingly started up once again because of the stimuli his body suddenly found itself processing.

The first thing he felt was a wonderful warmth.

_Okay_, he thought. _That's just Bones. She's come to bed._

The second thing he felt was the softness of their bedsheets against a greater amount of his skin than he realized he should be feeling it.

_Wait_, a voice perked up. _Hey! __How…what…when did I get naked? Where are my boxers?_

The third thing he felt was an incredible pressure in the area of his groin.

_Oh, shit…_another voice warned him. _Uhhh…I know __that__ feeling…and, oh, God that feels good._

"Bones," he moaned as his eyes popped open, and he struggled to lift his head up and off of his pillows as he took in the scene around him―one that differed a tremendous amount from the time when he'd fallen asleep less than twenty minutes earlier. He instantly became aware that their bedroom was now bathed in darkness but for a soothing single pair of lavender scented pillar candles that Brennan had light, one situated on each side of the bed on their respective nightstands. "Bones, baby, uh―"

Her warm and naked body had slipped in between the sheets and had molded itself to his at some point after she'd apparently stripped his boxers off and begun to have her way with him.

"I know you're tired," Brennan said quietly, her voice suddenly taking on the feel of velvet as she talked. "But, I hope you don't mind―"

Booth lost the coherent ability to speak as she shifted in bed slightly, readjusted her fingers as she grabbed at his rapidly growing erection, and began to pump him slightly in expectation.

Booth could only moan again in sheer delight as he let his head fall back into his stack of feather pillows when he closed his eyes and let the sensations overtake him.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	12. Ch 12: Beautiful and Devious

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

Author's Note - Errr, kiddies, if you are under the legal age of consent, skip this one please and wait for the next bus. For those for whom epic hotness isn't a legal, moral, or preferential issue, read on….~

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 12 - Beautiful and Devious<span>

* * *

><p>Their bodies had never ceased to adapt quickly to be in rhythm with one another despite what craziness their minds or hearts might be in the middle of at any given moment.<p>

Initially, Brennan had contemplated waiting until morning to do anything more than shower and slip into her nightgown before she came to bed and told Booth goodnight. When she saw how run-down and depleted he was, the nurturing part of her only wanted to reach out and care for her partner. At the moment, sleep was the best thing she could allow him to obtain in order to provide for his general well-fare.

However, when she emerged from the bathroom and saw that he'd already fallen asleep, a second and more selfish set of desires emerged. Lying flat on his back in bed , he hadn't even pulled the sheet or duvet over more than the lower third of his knees before he'd apparently fallen asleep. Brennan saw that he'd stripped down to his boxers. She could see the muscular tone of his shoulders and chest as her eyes traveled up and down his slumbering body. It was, ultimately, the light scruff of his unshaven face that did her in and made the final decision in the direction of being selfish. A steady pulsing began to grow more prominent as she felt a slight wetness between her legs as she studied him. Underneath the simple cream-colored cotton chemise she'd dawned after her shower, she felt her nipples harden as she stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Her heart rate increased as she licked her lips and wondered when the room had suddenly become so hot as she flushed with want and desire.

Glancing around the room, she surveyed their current environment and decided the harsh lights of the incandescent bulbs in the lamps that burned on either nightstand were hardly conducive to creating a seductive atmosphere that would contribute towards achieving a satisfying sexual encounter. Quickly, she moved to turn them off. As she walked to her side of the bed first, another idea occurred to her. She grabbed a couple of aromatherapy candles from where they sat on top of her bureau and set one on her nightstand and light it once she shut the lamp off. Moving towards Booth's side of the bed, she repeated the process. However, before she got into bed, she stopped long enough to push the spaghetti straps of her chemise off her shoulders. When it fell to the ground in an appreciative _whoosh _of smooth silk, she shivered slightly as the tight pink peaks of her nipples tightened further and spurred her on in her movements. Quickly, Brennan hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her white string bikinis and pulled them down off of her hips before she let them too pool around her ankles. Before she got into bed, she kicked them away with a satisfied sigh.

Brennan thought that Booth might awaken to her plans as she drew back the duvet and sheets and slid into bed next to him. However, he didn't so much as even stir as the mattress dipped with her weight, nor did he make a sound as she continued looked on in appreciation at his magnificent body.

Things went quickly after that.

With the same ruthless concentration and focus that she applied in the lap, Brennan reached down and tugged her thumbs in the waistband of his jersey knit boxers. She carefully slid them down his legs, and again, he was in so deep a slumber that he didn't even twitch at her efforts. A part of her rational mind hesitated for a few brief seconds as she realized how tired Booth must be if he'd fallen into that deep a sleep that quickly…especially because he was normally the lighter sleeper between the pair of them.

However, when Brennan spied his shaft lying limply against his thigh, the crisp brown curls making her want to reach out and thread her fingers through them as she massaged his balls, anything but the more prurient thoughts she had quickly flittered out of her head. Seeing no reason to deny her desire, Brennan's right hand reached out and lightly wrapped around his dick, grasping him by the base as she wrapped her dainty fingers around him. She licked her lips once more in anticipation as she used her thumb to draw small circles along the underside of his shaft in a spot near the base that she knew drove him crazy when he was awake. It didn't take long for her digital stimuli to elicit results, as within a moment or two of her stroking him, she felt his cock begin to swell in her hand. It had always been an empowering feeling to her, knowing that she could get such a response from a man like Booth, and it made the damp feeling between her legs grow more pronounced.

Adjusting her hands slightly, she started to drag her fist up and down his shaft, carefully tugging at the delicately veiny skin as she touched him in a way that she knew he loved. Her other hand reached out and touched the curls at the base of his shaft as she'd wanted to, threading through them before she let the palm of her hand come to palm his balls. One hand kneaded them while the other continued to pump him into what was fast becoming a raging hard-on.

After a couple of minutes when she saw and then felt the tell tale signs of a few opalescent drops of precum gather at the tip of his cock, Brennan knew that she'd primed the proverbial pump enough in this particular manner. Letting her hands release him, she shifted in bed as she moved to straddle him. As she pressed her warm and naked body to his, Booth _finally _began to show some signs of consciousness as a small groan escaped from his lips.

A smacking of his lips as his eyes finally fluttered open told Brennan her efforts had finally pulled him from his sleep.

"Bones," he whispered, his voice already gravelly in a way she loved as he uttered the single word, whether from sleep or arousal she didn't know.

"Mmmmm," she responded as she twisted her hips against his groin where she could feel his hard cock pressing into her.

"Bones, baby, uhhhh―" he whispered again.

The befuddled confusion in his voice as his eyes fluttered open―blinked at her as his brain tried to catch up to processing the stimuli his body was feeling, and then promptly snapped shut as he realized what was happening to him―made Brennan want him even more in that moment because of the adorableness of it all. She again moved her hips as she twisted her pelvis so that she could grind against him. Even as she saw him squeeze his eyes shut, her belief about their bodies always falling into easy rhythm with one another was confirmed when his hips bucked up to meet hers. Smiling, Brennan reached down and grabbed for Booth's hands bringing them up as she pressed his large palms against her heavy breasts.

"Booth―" she whispered, his name escaping as a throaty moan from her lips in what she hoped was a sign of verbal encouragement.

Perhaps it was just coincidence that he finally and fully came back to the land of the living in that moment as she called his name. But, his eyes snapped open and his hands increased the delicious pressure on her tits at the same instant that a small growl escaped his lips. It was Brennan's turn to close her eyes in ecstasy as he thumbed her already pert nipples into tighter bright pink peaks, if such a thing was possible. When another throaty moan escaped her mouth, Booth quickly flipped them over so that she was on the bottom while he covered her warm and pliant body with his.

He traced a series of kisses along her shoulder blade and up her neck, alternating between sucking, licking, and lightly nipping her soft skin. And, when he shifted his focus so that he could finally seek out her eager mouth, he could only mutter a single phrase before his tongue wrapped around hers.

"Beautiful…so beautiful…and so damn devious," he muttered before he reached out to kiss her.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	13. Ch 13: It Didn't Match

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 13 - It Didn't Match<span>

* * *

><p>Brennan was up, dressed, and gone with the baby to the Jeffersonian before Booth had even managed to stumble out of bed and to the shower. By the time he was eating his bowl of Cocoa Puffs using a spoon in one hand, and downing a profuse amount of very hot Dunkin' Donuts brewed coffee from a mug in his other hand, Brennan had already dropped Christine off at daycare and had arrived on the main platform of the lab. Given the fact that they were working with only a partial set of remains, the heart had gone directly to Cam's autopsy suite for processing while the twelve pairs of ribs lay arranged on the exam table awaiting Brennan's critical eye.<p>

The intern awaiting her that morning was Colin Fischer, who seemed to be his normal melancholy self as he awaited his mentor's probing questions.

"Mr. Fischer," Brennan said as she snapped on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. "What has your preliminary assessment revealed?"

"As you can see, the twenty-four ribs have been disarticulated with what I would qualify as almost surgical precision," Fischer said, gesturing with one gloved hand vaguely over the bones. "I'm not certain what type of cutting instrument was used, but whatever blade separated the ribs from the thoracic vertebrae, it was very thin and very sharp and allowed the individual who preformed the procedure precise control in his actions."

Brennan considered his words and then added as she pointed at one of the curves of one of the ribs, "Metamorphosis of the tubercle and costal face here indicate that the victim was male, between the ages of?"

"Thirty-five and forty years of age," Fischer finished. "Dr. Hodgins asked me to inform him when he would be permitted to take additional bone scrapings beyond the strontium profile he's already conducting use the mass spectrometer, but since the bones looked like they'd already been cleaned by someone before they were found at the crime scene, I waited for you to view them before I released the bones to his care."

Brennan gave her intern a favorable nod. "An admirable decision, Mr. Fisher. Now―" As one of the smaller rib bones caught Brennan's attention, her brow furrowed as she frowned and reached for it with her right hand. "What's happened here?"

Fisher, apparently quite aware of what Brennan was referencing, winced a bit as he said, "Uhh, yes, that―"

"Mr. Fisher?" Brennan asked as she lifted the bone closer to her eye, even though she already knew what the tell-tale grooving indicated. "I thought you told me that you didn't release the bones to Dr. Hodgins…."

"I didn't," Fisher began. "Dr. Hodgins agreed to wait until you conducted a preliminary analysis here in the lab, but Dr. Saroyan―"

"But, Dr. Saroyan couldn't wait," Cam's voice came as she bounded up the platform's steps, swiped her ID access card, and waved a piece of paper in the air at both of them. "I needed to take a sample of the bone marrow for DNA testing."

"And, by drilling through this rib's surface you may have compromised something vital," Brennan said as she gestured at Cam with the rib. "I thought we had an agreement about the bones, Dr. Saroyan. You know I don't like it when my authority and purview is superseded―"

"By your boss?" Cam finished, flashing Brennan an annoyingly congenial smile.

"What was so important," Brennan asked, ignoring Cam's statement. "That you needed to take the marrow sample before I could look at the bones?"

"On a hunch―" Cam began.

Brennan's eyes narrowed as she said sharply, "A _hunch_? You've possibly compromised my bones on a _hunch_?"

"On a hunch," Cam repeated, ignoring Brennan's comments. "I wanted to verify that the DNA in the heart that Pelant left for us matched the DNA of the marrow in these bones since the wacko likes to mix up body parts. I figured it would be better to not make any assumptions about the number of potential victims we were dealing with, and―"

"And?" Brennan prompted her as Cam extended the results of the DNA comparison she'd ran, and the forensic anthropologist grabbed it in her free hand.

"And," Cam said, her face grim. "They don't match. The heart came from someone with an A negative blood type, and that rib that you're holding in your other hand came from some with a O positive blood type."

"Two different victims," Brennan murmured thoughtfully. She turned back to the ribs and said, "While it appears that these ribs all came from the same skeleton, a Caucasian man approximately 35 to 40 years of age, there's no way to know that for certain unless we run DNA tests on a sample of the marrow from each bone."

"So, it's possible," Fischer said. "That we're dealing with as many as twenty-five different victims here―24 including each rib we've found and the 25th representing the victim from which the heart was taken."

"Indeed," Brennan said grimly, her face paling slightly. "Meaning…it's possible that Pelant just went from being a serial killer to a mass murderer."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	14. Ch 14: Finally, a Lead

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14 - Finally, a Lead<span>

* * *

><p>When Brennan called Booth and informed him of Cam's finding―and more importantly, what it's implications heralded―he immediately left during the middle of a meeting with his field detail at the FBI building to return to the Jeffersonian for a personal update. His actions, Brennan would later find out from Sweets, seemed to annoy someone at the Hoover Building―although no one was sure exactly whom―since Booth's official resignation as the liaison to the Jeffersonian seemed to have been temporarily ignored by just about everyone involved.<p>

By the time he entered the lab, looking even more tired and haggard than he had that morning, Cam had an additional update for him about the identity of at least one of their potential victims. As he swiped his ID card and trudged up the stairs to the platform, Cam inclined her head by way of greeting.

"What have you got for me, Camille?" Booth said with a weary sigh.

"Hello to you, too, Seeley," Cam responded wryly.

"Camille, please, don't start," Booth sighed. "It's been a long day, and unless you've got some good news for me―which I highly doubt given the shitty turn of luck I've had lately―it's gonna get even longer, so, just…be nice, okay?"

"If you don't stop calling me Camille, I'm not going to be nice and tell you what I know you'll want to hear," Cam told him.

"Cam," Booth growled this time, a tinge of warning coming into his voice.

She stared for a minute, and then nodded as she extended a sheet of paper to him. "Better," she said. "Here you go."

Quickly, Booth's eyes scanned the paper. After a minute, he looked up at her, his brow furrowed with confusion. "Why are you giving this time me?"

"Because," Cam said. "I thought you might want to know the ID of at least one of our victims."

"This…is one of our victims?" Booth asked. His eyes squinted down at the paper again just in case he missed something and then his eyes darted back to Cam. "I don't get it. How can that be?"

"DNA testing confirms it," Cam said. "The heart that Pelant left at the scene was taken from the body of one James K. Totkins, 38, of Cheverly, Maryland. He died six weeks ago when his motorcycle crashed into an embankment on the BW Parkway during a rainstorm. He was an organ donor."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Booth muttered. "Why would Pelant leave the heart of a guy who died in a motorcycle accident?"

"I don't know," Cam said with a shrug. "Angela's getting the accident report from the MHP to review the circumstances of the accident to see if anything looks out of the ordinary, but at the moment, it appears as if he just took the heart from the hospital that harvested it for transplant."

"Wait," Booth said. "You said Totkins died six weeks ago? That means his heart should've been implanted almost as soon as it was out of the guy's chest right. So, it's possible that the vic we're looking for isn't Totkins, but whoever got Totkins' heart?"

Cam stared for a minute, surprised that such a thought hadn't occurred to her before Booth got there. After a minute, she slowly nodded. "Yeah," she answered. "An organ like that can stay on ice for a while, but not for six weeks unless Pelant intercepted whomever was supposed to get that heart."

"So, we need to find out A.) if the heart was ever implanted and B.) if so, who got it," Booth said, grabbing for his cell phone.

"If it was implanted, we're most likely looking for someone who was probably still in the hospital or in some type of rehabilitation facility at the time Pelant got to him," Cam said. "Six weeks post-op on a heart transplant is still a critical time when rejection and/or other complications can pop up."

"I'm on it," Booth nodded, this time smiling for the first time in what seemed like days. He quickly spun on his heels as he exited the lab with more energy than he'd displayed just ten minutes earlier.

"You're welcome," Cam called out after him.

Booth had barely enough time to wave and respond before the lab doors shut behind him. "You're a wonderful person, Cam. Th―"

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	15. Ch 15: A Worrisome Phone Call

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 15 - A Worrisome Phone Call<span>

* * *

><p>Brennan had removed herself to the Bone Room to continue a closer examination of the twenty-four ribs that had been recovered from Pelant's crime scene at the Hoover once Cam had taken marrow samples for DNA testing. She was in the middle of looking at some of the remodeling on two of the ribs to determine if the patterns might indicate they were apart of the same accident when her cell phone rang. Setting down one of the right ribs she was examining under the magnification lens in her hand, and reached with her other one into the pocket of her blue lab coat. She didn't even bother to check to see what name and number came up on her cell phone's caller ID as she hit the 'receive' button, lifted the phone to her ear, and answered in her tell tale brusque manner.<p>

In the span of about thirty seconds, she felt the blood drain from her face and extremities as she heard the twittering voice of Ms. Noonan, the head of the Jeffersonian infants and toddlers daycare program, tell her about her daughter. As the older woman's high pitched voice continued to assault her delicate ears, Brennan didn't really hear anything beyond the first three sentences she had spoken.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you that there's been a problem here at the daycare center."

"We couldn't get a hold of Mr. Booth."

"Your daughter Christine seems to be missing."

As Brennan's rational mind struggled to process the meanings of Noonan's words, a sickening twist of fear felt as if it were stabbing her in the gut. _Oh, my God, Pelant took her_, a voice whispered in Brennan's head. _Pelant took your daughter…and now you have to tell Booth and keep him from murdering someone._

In what she would later attribute to a flood of hormones due to her post-pregnancy state, a flash of images flew through her mind as she realized that someone had taken her baby.

_An image of hitting Booth in the head as she gave birth surrounded by animals in a barn._

_An image of letting Booth dress her in his FBI jacket after the delivery when she realized how cold she was due to the mild blood loss she'd experienced during her delivery and how the smell of being surrounded by him brought her comfort as she held their daughter for the first time._

_An image of returning home to their house to see their friends had thrown them an impromptu party in congratulations of the arrival of little 'Stapes'. While Angela had actually made the banner that graced their mantel piece, it had been Hodgins who coined the baby's nickname and made the banner a keepsake that was all the more precious to Brennan then it already had been._

_An image of Angela's face, alight with happiness, when she told her that Christine's middle name was after her honorary aunt._

_An image of their daughter's howling face the first time that Booth brought her into bed with them during the middle of the night, even though they'd agree she should sleep in her bassinet._

_An image of Christine blowing bubbles at Brennan that morning before she left her in the daycare so that she could head to the lab to begin work on Pelant's latest set of victims._

The rush of adrenaline that flooded Brennan's body as she realized her daughter was in trouble and needed her help suddenly pushed all sentimentality aside. A cold hardness washed over Brennan as she opened her mouth to cut off Noonan's slightly hysterical rant. However, just as she was about to speak in the terse and forthright manner for which she was infamously known, a jovial knock came on the door to the Bone Room. Brennan's eyes snapped up as a very familiar form lumbered into the room with a smile on his face and a miracle in his arms.

"Hey, baby," Max Keenan said, as she smiled at his daughter. "Look who's here to see Mommy?"

He bounced Christine happily in his arms, and the baby squealed in delight as she saw her mother and then at Max's random movements. Brennan's brow furrowed as she felt relief flood through her body as the panic she'd felt just a minute before completely dissipated. She immediately told Noonan over the phone that Christine's impromptu disappearance apparently wasn't as big a catastrophe as it appeared to be and said she'd call the woman back, but that the baby was alright, present, and accounted for, and that she didn't need to worry. Then, Brennan hastily ended the call and put her cell phone in her pocket before she crossed around the table to move towards where her father and daughter stood happily awaiting her.

Crossing her arms as she walked, Brennan's posture was clearly defensive as she frowned at her father and said, "Dad, how many times do we have to tell you? You can't keep kidnapping Christine from daycare whenever you want even if you are her grandfather."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	16. Ch 16: Interlude at the Diner

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 16 - Interlude at the Diner<span>

* * *

><p>Brennan sat in one of her usual spaces at the diner, this time perched on a chair in front of the main counter. Several months earlier, she'd figured out it was easier to hold the baby when she was supported by the firm backing of one of the main counter's swivel chairs as opposed to the less imposing chairs that flanked the table she usually shared with Booth. Christine, for her part, quickly demonstrated for her grandfather why it was usually a very bad thing to get an infant off her schedule―even if it seemed like a good idea at the time when she was cooing and blowing bubbles at one's unexpected arrival at the Jeffersonian daycare. Fussy, Brennan knew that when her daughter had managed to work herself up into such moods, only two things normally appeased her―her favorite foods or a nap.<p>

_Funny, _Brennan thought as she reached into the diaper bag she'd plucked from her father at the Jeffersonian and searched for an emergency box of goldfish crackers that she kept handy for just such a purpose. _It really is intriguing how Christine mimics Booth in behavior. They both get extremely irritable if they aren't well fed and well rested._

"What do you need, Tempe?" Max Keenan asked as he saw Brennan juggle the baby in one arm and the diaper bag in the other.

"It's okay," Brennan said after a moment. "I think I've just about…got it!" As her fingers closed around a familiar box, she withdrew it as she looked at her father with a very pleased smile on her face. "I just needed to get the goldfish for Christine so she doesn't begin to wail at a decibel that is offensive to both several types of animals and humans alike." Extending the box to her father, she nodded at him as she said, "Can you open that for her please?"

As soon as Christine saw the tell-tale box of goldfish crackers, her eyes light up, and she began to make noises that were a cross between a low-pitched screech and a gurgle. Brennan absentmindedly bounced her as the baby reached out towards Max who was spreading some of the crackers down on a clean plate that Brennan had asked their waitress to bring for just such a purpose. Once Max had emptied a few out onto the plate, Brennan reached out with the hand that was free once she'd let the diaper bag fall back into place from where it was slung on the back of her chair. Grabbing one of the crackers, she proffered it to the baby who quickly opened her mouth with an _ahhh-ummm _type sound of happiness as she began chomping on the cracker.

"You know," Max began as he watched his daughter and granddaughter with a keen sense of admiration and fondness in his voice. "I remember when you were a little girl and used to make that same type of noise. But, it wasn't goldfish you liked. I mean, you'd eat them in a pinch, but it was actually animal crackers you loved the best. Goldfish you might throw at me or you mother if you were in a mood, but you'd never toss an animal cookie―you wouldn't waste one to even through at Russ when he was being too much of a smartass. You wait until after you finished eating your crackers, and then you'd either spit up on him or kick him if he got to close when you were pissed off at him."

As her father regaled her with yet another tale of her childhood development, Brennan made a slight face. She knew to take half of the stories he told her were a grain of salt since she knew her father loved to exaggerate…and the birth of his first biological granddaughter several months earlier had, for some reason, exacerbated his tendency to tell tall-tales for some inexplicable reason.

"I'm sure that was just a coincidence," Brennan eventually said. "While an infant's cognitive skills are quite well developed even at Christine's young age, I highly doubt that I was so…strategic in my consumption patterns versus seeking retribution against Russ for perceived annoyances as you say, Dad."

"Sure, sure," Max said with a dismissive way of his hand. "Go ahead and don't believe me. I know you don't believe half of what I say, when the ironic part is, I'm being absolutely honest about this stuff. Honestly, Tempe, I know how to weave a good yarn, but I couldn't make up half the stuff as good as what you and Russ actually did before you two were even walking and talking―let alone once you two were on the move. That's when the real fun is going to begin, you know…especially with that one there." He made a face at the baby who immediately broke out into a grin that revealed her lone tooth.

Bouncing the baby again as she reached for another goldfish, Brennan suddenly sighed as she said, "You know, Dad, that reminds me. We really do need to talk about setting up some type of regulated visitation schedule so that you can see Christine without putting the Jeffersonian on lockdown."

"A visitation schedule?" Max said with a quirked eyebrow as he lifted his mug of coffee to his lips. "Uh huh―right."

"I'm serious, Dad," Brennan told her father. "Especially with how things are right now, Booth and I really don't need anymore stress. You're just lucky Ms. Noonan called me first and not Booth―"

"Uh huh," Max repeated his earlier statement. He stared at Brennan for a moment before he set down his coffee mug. Raising his napkin to the corner of his mouth, he dabbed at each side just so before he set the napkin down and then leveled a gaze at Brennan. Looking over at his daughter with a pointed stare, he tilted his head slightly as he asked, "So, does this mean that I'm actually going to have to guess what in the hell's really going on with you two right now or are you going to save us both some time and just tell me who I need to get my pipe ready for or what?"

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	17. Ch 17: Ruminations and Reflections

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

Author's Notes: A few things: if you're reading this, congratulations. Apparently fanfic dot net has been putzing up the revealing of chapters to readers of many stories. I'm aware of it, but there's not really anything I can do. It seems, for some reason, many of you can't read the previous chapter until I post a new one. I wish I could do something, but there's not much I can do (as I tried re-uploading chapters, and it didn't do much). All I can say is that if you have problems, you're not alone. Second, to answer some peoples questions, updates on my other stories have slowed. To be honest, the only reason this one is getting updated is because the chapters are so short. No, I haven't abandoned any stories, but it's going to be a little while before the longer stories get updated―not _too _long, I hope, and I won't bore everyone with the details of why, but hopefully things will get back to normal within the next couple of weeks. Last, in case it floats anyone's boat, Dharmasera, Inc (of which I'm one-half) has begun posting a really AU historical B&B piece that will rock everyone's worlds. If you're into that sort of thing (think of it like _Bones_ meets _the Tudors_ meets _the Thornbirds_), go click on my erstwhile compatriot Dharmamonkey's profile as we've just posted the first chapter there. Now, since the A/N is reaching a length that's longer than the chapter actually will be, I think I'll shut up now. On with the proverbial show….~

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 17 - Ruminations and Reflections<span>

* * *

><p>Max Keenan stared at his only daughter for a long time. As she divided her attention between holding his infant granddaughter, and informing him about the latest case involving Christopher Pelant, he saw something he rarely saw in Brennan―the more she talked, the more she began to spew forth information detailing the case to him. It was as if, once he'd asked the correct question that needed to be posited, Brennan opened up and began to speak as if a floodgate had been released.<p>

"―and I've wanted to talk to Booth about this, I really have," Brennan was saying as she handed the baby another gold fish cracker. "But, every time I do something…well, something comes up, and we end up getting distracted, and we haven't really had a chance to talk about the situation like this―" She used her free hand to gesture vaguely at the space in between them as her words trailed off into silence.

__Of course, it hasn't been for lack of trying on my part_, Brennan thought with a weariness that made her realize just how much of a mental toll Pelant was taking on her. _He just keeps figuring out ways to distract me...even when I catch him off guard.__

Max considered her words for a moment and then asked, "Is…is he serious about leaving his post as the liaison to the Jeffersonian?"

"I don't know," Brennan replied instantaneously with a small shake of his head.

"I mean, come on, Tempe," Max continued to prod her. "He wouldn't…he wouldn't just end your partnership after seven years just like that, would he?" He snapped his fingers to illustrate his point.

"I don't know," Brennan answered again, this time some of the frustration she'd felt because of Booth's actions and their continued inability to talk about things finally coming to the surface.

"I can't believe he'd do something like that," Max said slowly, as he tried to work through what Brennan had told him. "Ending your partnership like that? It just doesn't make any sense of it all."

"Our _professional _parntership," Brennan was quick to correct her father, as just a touch of defensiveness crept into her voice. "Our _ professional_ partnership. Booth assures me that our personal partnership is just as strong as it's ever been. But―" She stopped, and a bit of the fight went out of her as she sighed. "I find I must concur with your assessment because, well, Booth has apparently, so you can feel free to believe it because it's the truth," Brennan sighed. As the tension in her body became more pronounced, it was as if the baby could feel her mother's stress, and she began to fuss just a bit.

"Tempe," Max said, his brow furrowing slightly as a thought occurred to him. "Are you sure…are you certain that Booth's telling you everything?"

Brennan looked at her father and then narrowed her eyes as she asked suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe he's avoiding talking to you because there's something he doesn't want to tell you..." Max stopped and the thought about what he'd just said and made a face. "Or, come to think of it, and the thing that's more likely, is there's something he doesn't want you to know," Max told his daughter gently.

She was silent for a moment as she bounced the baby again, trying to calm Christine's slight nervous warning noises that the baby was making as she seemed she'd finally grown tired of stuffing her chubby pink cheeks with the baked cheese gold fish crackers. After another minute, Brennan finally sighed. "I don't know, Dad. I don't think he'd keep something like this from me, given all the progress we've made in our personal relationship over the past year, but I know, logically...rationally, if you will that it's certainly possible." Brennan paused for a moment, and looking down at her daughter, when she saw the shape of Booth's eyes―even if Christine's irises had her coloring―she felt a small twinge as she knew what her father said had a certain resonance...and truth to it. "I think I'm not breaking any confidences," Brennan told her father in a quiet voice, "when I say that when Booth feels that his loved ones are threatened, he becomes very…focused. It's almost as if his mental processes take on this type of...tunnel vision, for lack of a better word. And, true, while that ability makes him very deadly, but also it's a weak spot for him that he doesn't like to admit. It's one of the reasons he was such a good sniper, but also the reason why he can make mistakes if he's not conscientious enough to anticipate and compensation for that mental and emotional deficiency."

Max remained quiet for a moment as he let Brennan sort through some of the thoughts and feelings that she'd obviously been keeping bottled up for some time and hadn't been able to let out since Booth had been less than open to talking as of late. When she remained quiet, and merely stared at the baby―who'd seemed to think that the staring of her mother constituted some new game that fascinated her―Max knew he had to say something.

"Tempe," Max sighed. "Look, everyone knows that Booth loves you―"

Instantly, her head snapped up as Brennan said with more than a slight touch of passion in her normally clinically rational voice, "I know that, Dad. And, I love him, too."

"Right," Max agreed. "Everyone knows that, but―"

"But, since everyone knows that we love each other," Brennan completed her father's thought―one that she'd had herself too many times to count since the situation with Pelant had mushroomed out of control. "―anyone can use that against us. And, I have to tell you, Dad―just between you, me, and Christine? I'm afraid that's _exactly _what's happening. _Exactly."_

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	18. Ch 18: Max's Thoughts on the Situation

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 18 - Max's Thoughts on the Situation<span>

* * *

><p>As Max Keenan stared at his daughter and granddaughter, and he considered Brennan's words, he felt a flush of warmth throughout his body as adrenaline began to course throughout his veins. He stared at Brennan and her baby―both so like him in coloring and disposition, but with just enough of his beloved wife within them that Max could easily see Christine in each. While Brennan told him the details surrounding Christopher Pelant's case, he couldn't help but feel as he had almost twenty years before when another criminal had threatened his family.<p>

_And that won't be happening to Tempe or the baby_, he thought. _She isn't going to have to go through that again, and neither will my granddaughter because I'm going to do whatever I have to do to make certain that they both stay safe. I putzed up once before, and it cost one Christine her happiness and eventually her life. I'll be damned if I'm going to let that happen all over again. Tempe's just gotten the family that she's always wanted, always deserved,_ he mused. _She's not gonna lose it, not this quickly and not over some two-bit geek who thinks he's better than they are. I'll be damned before I let that happen…before I let her down again. It's just __not__ happening. Ha…better than Booth? Better than my daughter? Better than me? If some idiot really thinks that then he definitely isn't as smart as he thinks he is._

Brennan was too absorbed in dividing her own attention between tending to the baby and ruminating on Pelant's obvious choice to use Booth's connection to she and their daughter for his own benefit to notice what her father was thinking. Thus, she was still struggling with how to explain the crucial fact that it seemed Pelant had honed in on one particular vulnerability the team had―Booth and Brennan's family and love for one another.

_Maybe it's time I have a chat with my unofficial son-in-law_, Max mused. _Maybe…maybe two heads that want to do whatever has to be done to protect Tempe and the baby are better than one_―_especially when that one is a federal law enforcement agent. Hmmm…_

"Tempe?" Max suddenly spoke up.

Still distracted, he had to call her name twice more before she looked from the baby back to her father. "Yes, Dad?"

"Tell me―this guy…this Pelant, I know you said he's smart," Max said.

"Extremely," Brennan confirmed with a slight nod. "I don't think he's as intelligent as I am, but he's…he's extremely bright."

"So, maybe you guys are going about this the wrong way," her father said. "Maybe…if you guys aren't making any progress in the case because you're thinking too much inside the box, maybe the way to go outside it is to see a perspective from someone who's not quite as far up the IQ food chain as everyone else at the lab is."

Brennan frowned for a moment as she considered her father's words. "What box?" she asked. "Further, while Booth doesn't possess as much formal education as many of us at the lab, he's still incredibly wise and talent, Dad. I don't like it when you―"

Chuckling slightly as his daughter's defense of Booth, Max smiled. "I, uhh, wasn't talking about Booth, Tempe. I was kinda talking about me."

"Oh," Brennan said, suddenly deflating a bit. She was silent for a moment and then shook her head, "Well, then, even still, what I was going to say applies. You are an incredibly smart man, Dad. Obviously, since you contributed one-half of the genetic material that produced me, you have some intelligence, even if you wish to downplay it because it makes the less noble, and more nefarious pursuits you've sometimes indulged in―"

"When I was a criminal, Tempe," Max said, his eyes hardening a bit as he reminded her of a fact that she rarely forgot. "When, as that affable shrink of yours profiled me at my trial, I was a sociopathic and very dangerous criminal."

Brennan stared at Max for a moment, identical pairs of blue eyes assessing one another. At last, she sighed wearily and said, "Dad, promise me you won't."

"Promise what?" Max responded.

"Promise me again," she clarified. "I mean, technically, you already promised once, but I think you need to do it again. Promise me that you won't go around trying to do anything illegal like murdering someone, okay?"

Max gave her a picturesque innocent 'who, me?' look.

Brennan rolled her eyes at him in response.

"Come on, Dad," Brennan said. "I-I…I need you to promise me. Because, I-I…I don't have Mom right now, and I need you." Her voice cracked a bit as Brennan spoke of her mother and then looked down at the baby who was munching again on another goldfish cracker. Looking back at her father, Brennan nodded vaguely at the baby as she continued, "With Christine and being a mother, I've learned to admit when I need something…when I need help. And, if it's one thing the past few months has taught me it's that I need you more than I ever possibly thought I would. So, I need you to be there for both of us, okay? I can't…I can't lose you…so, please…just promise me, okay?"

Max could only look at her in reply―feeling both elated, proud, and touched that his daughter had lavished such compliments on him―before he flushed once and then looked away as silence served as his initial answer to her very important question.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	19. Ch 19: Contaminating the Coffee Cart

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 19 - Contaminating the Coffee Cart<span>

* * *

><p>Christopher Pelant sat on a bench located just off the Lincoln Memory at the National Mall in Washington D.C. All in all, he'd never really understood the fascination that some individuals derived from the so-called act of 'people-watching'.<p>

_It makes absolutely no sense at all_, he mused as he bounced the balls of his feet up and down against the concrete of the sidewalk on which the bench in which he was sitting was located. _There's very little useful information that can be gained from just sitting around randomly watching strange people. While it's true that human behavior does have some constants, there are too many variables_―_intellect, persistence, drive, tenacity, ambition, personal preferences, personal desires, emotionalism, rationalism, fear_―_all of those and so many others can skew an anticipated outcome. _

He stopped and then glanced down at the clipboard he carried, noticing the crisp blank pages of the yellow legal pad that stood at the ready for whenever he wished to jot some errant thought or observation down. Taking the black clickable gel point pen from where it was tucked onto the silver clasp of the clipboard, Pelant used his right thumb to start clicking the pen several times, as he let his eyes roam absentmindedly over the scene before him.

_Now, of course_, he thought. _If you have a specific person, or say, a predetermined group of people that you want to observe, that's a different matter all together. Watching a single group of people to figure out how they think and how they'll behave…well, that can prove useful. Very useful, actually. And, that, I think it the only type of people watching worth doing._

He hadn't chosen this spot by accident.

_It __is__ a pleasant little vista_, Pelant mused. _I'll give them that. And, by the smell of things, the coffee from that little pedestrian cart over there doesn't seem to be quite that bad. I mean, it's not Starbucks, but it's probably cheaper anyway. _

Some might call him arrogant―indeed, more than one person had over the years, and he always was amused by such a recognition of his talents and abilities―so it wasn't like he could chide them for making such an accurate assessment of his personage. _I am what I am_, he thought. _I've never tried to deny that. Why should I? There's no point to being disingenuous or creating subterfuge to obscure the truth. Because, like blood, the truth will always tell. It __always__ will come out. It's just a question of when, where, how, and under what set of circumstances._

For example, Pelant wondered how they were reacting to the latest little puzzle that he'd left for them. It continued to amuse him that despite their own self-perpetuated claims of brilliance, they still hadn't even figured out what he was doing or why.

_They just think I'm some random psychopath_, Pelant thought with a frown. _Although, of course, the more appropriate term_―_and the one that I prefer in all honesty_―_is sociopath_. _But, if they'd just open their eyes and broaden their perceptive capabilities, maybe they'd see what they were missing. It's not like I'll tell them that, though. If they can't keep up with me, that's not my problem_―_it's their's. And, more importantly…they'll pay the price for that failure. Because, as is always the case in life, there's always a price. Always._

As Pelant stopped clicking his pen, and began to tap it lightly against the clipboard instead, he wondered how long they'd been coming to this spot over the years. He wondered about who'd found it, and if it had become special to them. He was curious to know if it held any sentimental attachment beyond being a convenient gathering place or local 'spot' where they could meet to socialize and relax. And, most importantly, he wondered if other people had started to come to this place because of their conditioning over the years, i.e., they came to the coffee cart because they knew that the Jeffersonian team frequented the place.

Christopher Pelant wasn't sure he was a man who believed in abstract and vague concepts like luck or fortune. He liked solid, concrete concepts and notions like truth. Something was either true or false…there wasn't any room for it to not be either one or the other. He also liked facts. Facts were also black and white…they couldn't be argued…at least, not really. Things like luck, however, didn't seem to follow any rules but their own―if they'd ever followed any at all. That was one reason Pelant didn't particularly care for indulging such notions. However, the other reason he didn't normally like them was because things like luck refused to be compartmentalized, categorized, or quantified. They were never, ever predictable, and inevitability did more harm than good to a person's life. But, on occasion, Pelant would have to concede that random things like the notion of luck could be quite, _quite _amusing.

Who honestly could say that it wasn't amusing that luck had delivered such a tantalizing stroke of good fortune as he sat there on a bench at _their _coffee cart, ostensibly just to think? It wasn't like he'd expected to run into any of _them _here today. After all, he knew exactly where all of them were at this very moment…or just about since half of them were working on his previous present and the other half were about to find his next one. So, he'd honestly just come here because he wanted a place to think while being near them without really being near them. He'd never expected to receive a good bit of luck as apparently had been cast at him today.

However, who was Christopher Pelant to turn his nose up at such fortuitous things if they happened upon him in the course of his daily routine?

Thus, as he looked over and spotted a very familiar pair of brown eyes and curly mop of blonde hair playing with a skateboard a few feet away, his lips curled into a chilling smile as he took the clipboard, readied his pen, observed his new target, and began to write.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	20. Ch 20: Parker's New Friend

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 20 - Parker's New Friend<span>

* * *

><p>At twelve years old, Parker M. Booth now considered himself older, wiser, and much for skilled than he'd been a year ago.<p>

After all, a year ago, if someone had asked him what he thought his life might be like as he approached his thirteenth birthday, he never would've guessed his life would've turned out like this. And, it was hard not to lose sight of that birthday, because it was a _very _important one, mind you, especially since it was the start of his teenage years and because he was a guy, and being a teenage guy was…well, it was important. He wasn't quite sure why. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that being a teenager meant that he'd become a legal adult, not to mention all the rites of passage that would happen between now and when he turned 18 in five and a half years. He'd start high school, he'd learn to drive, and perhaps most interestingly of all, he knew he'd finally hit puberty and so finally be able to talk to his father about the very long list that Parker had been keeping in his head about things they would talk about when he had hair underneath his arms.

But, a year ago if someone had asked him if he thought he'd be well on his way to being a grown up because in the past few months he'd become a big brother―but still hadn't gotten the dog he really wanted―gotten a new bedroom at his dad's new house, all but ended up with a new stepmom even if Bones and his dad weren't married yet, and lived in a foreign country for several weeks because of his mom's work…well, he would've laughed if someone had told him all that was going to happen to him. Then again, it wasn't like change hadn't been coming at him left and right ever since his dad got deployed to Afghanistan a couple of years before. Because that's when things, Parker had realized, had really started to be different, and he'd come to the conclusion that life never stayed the same for very long. So, yes, change was something he was realizing was a part of adulthood. And, he was coping with it as best he could, but on this fine early fall afternoon, it wasn't like he hadn't needed a break. Because a lot of things had changed, and he was trying to deal with it like the grownups did but it was still a lot.

And, that was how he found himself at the Mall with his skateboard instead of going to school like he knew he should've done. Yes, he knew it was wrong to skip school, but he'd never done it before, and he needed a break so he could think. So, he'd come to the one place where he knew that his dad liked to think…the coffee cart on the National Mall.

Parker was checking to see how aligned his skateboard wheels were when he glanced up and a flash of something familiar caught his eyes. A few feet away from him, on the bench where his dad and Bones normally sat was this young guy who was busy writing something down on a clipboard. But, on the back of the clipboard was a sticker with an emblem that Parker recognized.

Curiosity getting the better of him, even though he knew he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers―as that was one of his mother and father's cardinal rules for as long as he could remember―Parker surreptitiously made his way towards the bench.

_I know Dad said never to talk to strangers, but this guy doesn't look like he's that old…he's probably still in high school…or maybe just started college if he took AP courses. So, if he's that close in age to me, it's not like he can be a bad guy_, Parker silently reasoned. _Besides, bad guys don't have stickers like that on their clipboards. They just don't._

After a moment or two, Parker did what he thought was a casual walk over to the bench and sat down. He pretended to be completely absorbed with his skateboard, and it was almost perfect when a few minutes later the young guy glanced over at him, was still writing, but gave him a courteous nod. Parker smiled in return and nodded back.

A few more minutes passed before the other guy looked up and leveled a questioning stare at Parker as he said, "That's a pretty cool board you've got there."

"Thanks," Parker said proudly. "I bought in London."

"Cool," came the simplistic response.

Parker nodded jovially, and then said, "So, ummm, I noticed that you've got a _Dark Knight Rises _sticker from Super Hero Hype on your clipboard. You know, I was in London not to long ago, and I saw them shooting some scenes there." He paused and then added as he recalled the secondary unit scenes his mom had taken him to see since she felt bad for him missing his little sister's birth. "It was pretty cool."

"Oh, yeah?" came the curious response. "Really? That's cool, yeah." He paused and then tilted his head as he looked over at Parker, "So, you like Batman?"

"Yeah," Parker grinned easily. "I initially started to like him because Bruce Wayne sorta reminds me of my dad, but now I like him just because he kicks way more ass than anyone else in the Justice League."

Parker kept his grin in place to see if the young man would chastise his use of mild profanity. When he didn't, but merely set down his pen and stopped writing, Parker felt that even if he got into trouble for skipping school, if he made a new friend today that was older and cool, then it'd be totally worth it―even if his dad did ground him forever.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	21. Ch 21: Batman vs Green Lantern

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 21 - Batman vs. Green Lantern<span>

* * *

><p>Christopher Pelant blinked as he stared at Parker Booth.<p>

_He's an interesting one_, Pelant thought. _More quiet…and less…bombastic than I thought he'd be given who his father is. He must take more after his mother._

As Pelant's fingers curled around his clipboard, one of them brushed against the sticker that had caught Parker's attention. After a few seconds of mental debate, Pelant decided that if fate had put him in the way of such an opportunity, he'd be a fool not to take advantage of it.

_And, if there's one thing I'm most definitely not, it's not a fool_, Pelant thought.

"So," he began after another moment's pause, this second one just to make certain that he had Parker's attention. "You said you like Batman, right?"

"Oh, totally," Parker said. "I've always thought that Batman was the most impressive guy on the Justice League. Don't you?"

Pelant pressed his lips together for a moment and then nodded. "He's the only member of that team who's gotten to where he needs to go and do what he's done despite the fact that he's just a mere human."

"Well, don't forget that Hal Jordan is still a human," Parker pointed out. "I mean, when he's not using the Ring."

"True," Pelant said. "But, he always does make the choice to use the power of the Green Lantern Corps, doesn't he? Every time he uses his power ring and becomes the Green Lantern, Jordan ceases to be a human. He makes a conscious choice and sometimes the danger in situations when human beings make choices without keeping their consequences in mind is that their choices can have unintended ramifications."

"Yeah," Parker said. "My dad—he's always telling me I've got to think before I act."

Tilting his head, Pelant couldn't help but give the young boy a wry smile. "That's a good piece of advice—uh…."

Sticking out his hand, Parker gave Pelant a toothy grin as he said, "Parker. I'm Parker."

"You can call me…Chris," Pelant said, hesitating only for a few seconds.

"Chris, cool—" Parker nodded happily.

"Anyway," Pelant was saying. "It's good advice. The consequences of one's actions should always be first and foremost in one's mind. That way, when you act, you can know you're doing what you need to do without any regrets that you haven't acted honorably…and truthfully."

Parker stared at him for a minute, not certain he was understanding what the older man was saying. But, eager to please his new friend, he tried anyway as he said, "Batman always acts honorably. I mean, yeah, it's his own code, but I think that's what I like about him. He knows the difference between right and wrong and doesn't let anything get in the way of him doing what he knows he should do."

"I agree," Pelant nodded. "And, with Batman…even though he's a brilliant genius with unlimited resources, he can never forget the baggage of being Bruce Wayne and the frailty of his human condition even when he puts on the cowl. That makes him very, very different from someone like Hal Jordan when he becomes the Green Lantern."

"The power ring makes him who he is," Parker added after another moment's pause. "It's a symbol of who he is…."

"And, a symbol of what he chooses to abandon whenever he invokes the power of the Lantern core," Pelant nodded. "Unlike Bruce Wayne when he becomes Batman, Hal Jordan hides behind the power and unity of the Green Lantern Corps. He lets himself become lost in that team. And, when you lose yourself, Parker…you know what can happen?"

"No," he said truthfully. "What?"

"When you lose yourself, you have to know there's always a cost…always a price to be paid. Even when you don't think there is, eventually…because there's balance in everything, eventually wrongs are always righted and inequities are always made equitable," Pelant said.

An idea suddenly occurred to him as he let his words trail off. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a non-descript key and extended it to Parker as he said, "You know how I always remind myself of that stuff so I never forget it?"

"No," Parker responded.

"I keep this with me," Pelant said. "It's a key to truth…a key to honesty…and a fair warning to those who are smart enough and possess enough foresight to understand what it means." He gestured with the key and said, "Here, maybe…maybe you should take it."

Parker hesitantly reached out and took the key. He stared at the small brass object that was plain but for a few raised bumps near the top of the key. Eventually, after he'd completed his study, Parker asked, "You sure? If it's your good luck charm, I don't know if I should take it—"

"Naaw," Pelant grinned easily. "You go ahead. I think I've done all I can do with that one…for now, anyway. You go ahead and take it. I want you to."

"Really?" Parker responded.

Nodding again, Pelant's was still smiling as he said, "Definitely. I think you'll eventually get more use out of it than I ever could."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	22. Ch 22: Failure of the Shrinky Stuff

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

Author's Note: For those who are wondering, a new chapter of "Betrayed by Those Loved Best" should be posting over the weekend. The muse has been most annoyed that I'm prodding her back into service on what I hope will be a regular basis. The chapter is about 75% completed, so it is on it's way. Just an FYI.~

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 22 - Failure of the Shrinky Stuff<span>

* * *

><p>As he stood in the parking lot of a medical outpatient services building in Crystal City, Virginia, Dr. Lance Sweets was trying very hard not to let the internal wince he'd been feeling for about forty minutes manifest itself externally on his face. However, the more he felt the waves of frustration and growing agitation roiling off of the impending tsunami that was Special Agent Seeley Booth, he knew he'd eventually crack.<p>

_I might as well as just go ahead and get it over with_, Sweets thought. _Let him yell at me me now instead of waiting for him to just pop_―

"I think I made a mistake back there," Sweets finally said.

Booth's head snapped up from where he was looking at his cell phone trying to figure out what they should do next.

"Ya think?" was all Booth managed to grumble.

"I'm sorry," Sweets said. "I thought that, as one medical professional to another, that Dr. Jakey might be able to see reason and would cooperate with us―"

"Dumb move, Sweets," Booth said, shaking his head. "And, now I have to waste time getting a warrant from Caroline, and she's gonna be pissed off when she finds out I didn't just ask her in the first place." He stopped and sighed as he looked up at the younger man as he said, "Look, I know you were just trying to help, but Caroline's had a burr in her bonnet about this case since we found that very first vic―"

"Like everyone else hasn't?" Sweets said, tilting his head sharply as he looked up at Booth.

The sharpness of the psychologist's statement surprised Booth a bit. Initially, he'd taken Sweets with him to interview the doctor that had allegedly conducted the heart transplant that had used James Totkins' organ a month earlier to get Sweets out of the office. He'd felt bad that the younger man had been in a funk since his break up with Daisy, and he was trying to be a good friend by getting Sweets up and out into the world again.

_But, why he has to choose today of all days to return to wearing his cape of Shrinky Boy Wonder beats me_, Booth mentally sighed.

"Look," Booth began. "I know you were just trying to help, but you really need to check with me the next time you want to do something like this. It seriously screwed things up―"

"I did the best I could!" Sweets suddenly snapped, interrupting Booth. "And, it's not like we don't know anything. We did find out that if Jakey is citing doctor/patient confidentiality, then the chances are that Totkins' heart was transplanted into another patient."

"Maybe," Booth responded. "But, I would've really liked to have walked out of that doctor's office knowing that for sure and maybe even knowing who it was so we can plan and make our next move. The clock's ticking here, Sweets―"

"I know that," Sweets replied, leveling a hard stare at Booth. "Don't you think I know that? I've spent just as much time studying and worrying about who Pelant's going to kill next…what he's going to do next…all of it…everything…at least as much as you have, Agent Booth, if not more."

Booth stared at Sweets for a moment and then sighed. "Seriously, Sweets? You really want to pull this stuff now?"

"What, precisely, do you think I'm trying 'to pull' here, Agent Booth?" Sweets asked as he stuffed his hands in his pocket and straightened his back as he looked at the older man. "You brought me here to help you do a job, and as far as I can tell, that's what I'm trying to do. Now, I'm sorry I screwed up, but don't you think it's better that we get over that and decide what we're going to do next instead of wasting time complaining about it?"

Booth chewed his lip for a minute before he pointed at Sweets and said, "Fine. But, just so you know, this is why I'm bringing Bones next time. At least then I know to expect her to screw up at some point if we're dealing with people."

Sweets' only response to Booth's comment was to scowl slightly before he reached for the passenger handle of the black Toyota Sequoia and opened the door before he climbed inside without saying another word.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	23. Ch 23: Take On Me

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 23 – Take on Me<span>

* * *

><p>The pair of employees of the Federal Bureau of Investigations rode in strained silence across the 14th Street bridge from Crystal City, Virginia back into downtown D.C. Booth's frustration over the expedition not turning out as fruitful as he'd hoped it would be, coupled with Sweets' decision to display more aggressive than his normal passive aggressive behavior, had left him in a foul mood.<p>

Whenever he was in a pissy mood, Booth often resorted to flipping on one of the radio stations in D.C. that played eighties music. He felt that the upbeat and fast music of most songs could make him feel better…or, at the very least, improve his craptastic moods if even just a little bit. However, the current song that was playing on the radio was only serving to annoy him into even greater levels of crankiness as Sweets sat next to him and jauntily shook his leg in rhythm with the music.

_So needless to say  
><em>_I'm odds and ends  
><em>_I'll be stumbling away  
><em>_Slowly learning that life is OK  
><em>_Say after me  
><em>_It's no better to be safe than sorry_

"Cut that out," Booth growled. "Or, I'm switching the channel."

Sweets slowly turned his head from where he was looking out the passenger side window of the SUV and asked, "Huh?"

"Stop shaking your leg like you're some poster child for the latest RLS ad campaign," Booth told him as he continued staring at the road. "I'm trying to chill out, Sweets, and you're not helping things bouncing around like that, okay?"

His brow furrowing, Sweets asked, "I'm not tapping my foot to the beat of the song, Agent Booth."

_Take on me, take me on  
><em>_I'll be gone  
><em>_In a day or two  
><em>_Oh the things that you say  
><em>_Is it live or  
><em>_Just to play my worries away_

"Well, it's my car, and I want you to cut it out, okay?" Booth responded. "I don't really want to flip the channel, but I will if you keep at it."

Pursing his lips, Sweets said, "You know…this really isn't about me tapping my foot to the baseline of an A-ha song."

"Yes, it is," Booth immediately countered as he wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel and tightened his knuckles as he tried to keep his frustration in check. "You're making me dizzy, so just stop."

"Nope," Sweets said as he continued looking over at the occupant of the driver's seat. "This is just another way that you're trying to show that you're unhappy and frustrated and since you perceive that you can't do anything about it, you've chosen to project your negative feelings onto your relationship with me."

Booth couldn't help but guffaw at Sweets' words as his eyes darted off the road for just long enough so that the psychologist could see the agent as he rolled his eyes at him. "Relationship? Seriously, Sweets? I don't know what you thinks going on between us, be we are not dating. Aside from the fact that I'm perfectly content with Bones, you're not even my type—"

"And, there goes the predictable use of sarcasm and humor to deflect away from my valid point," Sweets said. "Now, I thought we'd gotten over this point, Agent Booth. If you want to talk to me about something, fine. All you have to do is be straight with me…but preferably after we exit off the bridge because I really don't want to jump out of the SUV when a large body of water is nearby, okay?"

Booth pursed his lips and then said, "There's nothing I need to talk to you about, okay, Sweets? I'm fine…and as far as anything that's between you and me—"

"You can deny it all you want, Agent Booth, but we both know that since well before Dr. Brennan gave birth to your daughter, our work conditions have made it more conducive that we become more personally intimate. Hence the reason why you turned to me for advice with Parker when he came back from England and seemed to be acting out in jealousy about Christine—"

"Bones and I handled that one just fine, thank you very much, Shrinky Boy Genius," Booth muttered.

"And," Sweets continued. "When you needed advice about how to make Dr. Brennan feel better about her body image, who was the guy you went lingerie shopping with?"

Jerking his hand off the wheel, Booth suddenly flashed an annoyed look at Sweets as he said, "Don't say it like that. It sounds icky and weird and not right when you say it like that. So, I swear to God, Sweets, if you keep this up, we're never _ever _gonna watch some dumb soccer game like you've been busting my balls to watch at that stupid hole in the wall that you love going to—"

_You're all the things I've got to remember  
><em>_You're shying away  
><em>_I'll be coming for you anyway  
><em>_Take on me, take me on  
><em>_I'll be gone  
><em>_In a day or two_

Sweets sighed at Booth's words and then said, "I'm just trying to help, Agent Booth. Since this thing with Pelant blew up, I know you've been dealing with a lot of stuff, and I just want you to know that I'm here if you need me."

"Fine," Booth nodded. "If you want to help me, then stop shaking your damn foot and—"

Booth's diatribe was suddenly cut off as his cell phone rang. He took only as long as he needed to shot Sweets one last scowl before he reached into the center console and grabbed the phone.

"Booth."

After a few words had been spoken, Booth glanced at the clock and then nodded.

"Yeah, fine. I can be there in…say, twenty minutes. Yeah, okay. Fine. Good."

When he was done, Booth tossed the phone back in the center console. Sweets stared at him expectantly.

When it became clear that Booth wasn't going to say anything about the nature of the caller, Sweets asked, "Who was that? A new lead? Where are we going next?"

Shaking his head, Booth clicked his tongue at Sweets as he said, "That was a personal call, Sweets. And, as for the answer to your last question, just so you'll stop busting my chops about it, the answer is nowhere. _We're _going nowhere. But, after I drop you off at the Hoover, I have a little stop to make all by my lonesome, and that's all we're going to say about that, okay?"

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	24. Ch 24: A Chat in the Church

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 24 - A Chat in the Church<span>

* * *

><p>Booth didn't have to look hard or spend very much time trying to find him. Once he'd entered the large church that was situated in Georgetown, he'd unconsciously ducked his index and forefingers in the small bowl of holy water that was situated by the door for visitors to use to bless themselves as they entered the sanctuary. Making the sign of the cross as he went, Booth walked down the center aisle with a steady gait and only stopped when he reached a pew that was situated about 13 of the distance from the main altar. Bowing his head the large crucifix that hung over the altar, he briefly genuflected on one knee and crossed himself a second time before he moved to enter the pew and sit down.

The church was almost empty at that time of day between afternoon and evening services. Glancing at his watch, Booth knew it wasn't coincidence about what time had been chosen for the meeting. Once he was seated, he glanced over at the only other visible occupant of the church and nodded in greeting.

"You know, Max, I never took you for, err―the spiritual type," Booth said with an arch of his eyebrow.

Max Keenan, who'd been sitting quietly in what appeared to be calm reflection considered the younger man's words, pursed his lips, and then rolled his shoulders slightly as he shrugged. "I like churches. They're nice places to sit and think," he said.

"And, a good place to try to claim sanctuary when you're afraid of getting caught for having done something bad?" Booth asked.

Pursing his lips, Max shot Booth a look before he broke into a genial smile and said, "Come on, now, Booth. You know that I've been walking the straight and narrow since before the baby was born…a long while before―I, errr, haven't actually even tried to break a law since that little misunderstanding that you and I had during Heather Taffet's trial."

Booth considered his words and then said, "You know, I'd almost believe you, but―"

"Awww, come on, kid," Max said with a sigh. "You know it's true. So, can you quit busting my balls for a minute and―"

"I said," Booth interrupted him with an easy grin. "I'd almost believe it was true if you hadn't called me 'Seeley' the other night when Bones had her freak out over you and the baby taking the scenic route on the way home from the playground. That was freaky, Max, and makes me think you're up to something, so don't do it again, okay?"

His blue eyes twinkled as Max replied, "So, you noticed that, huh?"

"Not much gets by me these days," Booth said with a small shake of his head. "It can't."

Looking at the altar, Max said, "And, that wouldn't be because of this little asshole Pelant now, would it?"

Leaning back into the pew, Booth's rigid body language deflated slightly at Max's words. "Ya know, I know I shouldn't be surprised―hell, if anything, I guess I should wonder that it took you this long to find out…but, how'd _that _name fall onto your radar?"

Tilting his head at the FBI agent, the former criminal said, "I had lunch with my girls today."

Wincing slightly, Booth asked, "Bones told you?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "She's worried, kid―_a lot_."

Booth blinked at the two long candles that stood light near the altar―each one marked with the letters 'alpha' and 'omega' and then sighed again. "She has a lot on her plate right now with the baby and this case―"

"And, with her partner trying to resign?" Max asked lightly.

Booth head quickly snapped over as he narrowed his eyes and shot Max a look.

Immediately, the older man help up his hands in supplication. "Hey, kid―look, I'm not saying that to judge, I…I-I…I just wish if something was getting this bad and that you felt this…anxious about something related to Tempe and the baby that you would've called me. I only want to help."

Booth looked at Max for a long minute and then his scowl softened as he said, "I'm handling it, Max."

"But―"

"I said I'm handling it," Booth repeated as he looked off for a moment and stared intently at a spot on the far wall as he went over in his mind what he hoped would be a mitigation plan with Pelant that he'd never need. _But, better to be safe than sorry_, Booth thought. He stopped and then sighed again as he turned to look at Max as he said, "Look, if you want to do something to help me and Bones then why don't you make certain that you keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble until the day after tomorrow? She's really fixating on things―and believe me I know this is ironic when I say this given that she's the self-professed atheist―but, she's stressing about the christening ceremony. I think that she wants it to be perfect. And, you not being there because of some dumb mistake on either one of our parts is gonna get both our asses handed to us by your daughter―something I'd like to avoid, okay? So…I promise, if I get in over my head...you'll be the first one I'd let know if I needed help with Pelant. I promise...very first one I call. But, for now, I've got it. Okay?"

Max considered Booth's words and then said, "Okay, kid. I trust you."

"Good―"

"And, as far as it goes for the christening, don't you worry your pretty little head off. I'll be there bright-eyed, busy-tailed, in a clean and pressed suit, with no discernable law enforcement officials after me, okay?" Max grinned at Booth. He then gestured at the front pews and front of them and asked, "Is there assigned seating or something? I mean, do I need to camp out for a good seat between now and then, do you think?"

Booth couldn't help but smile at Max's easy words. Nodding at him, he said with a small grin tugging at the edge of his mouth, "Don't worry, Max. I know some people, so I'll make certain you're on the VIP list."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	25. Ch 25: The Calm Before the Storm

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 25 - The Calm Before the Storm<span>

* * *

><p>It was a little after two thirty in the morning when the baby woke up and her piercing cries shattered the peaceful slumber of her parents. Booth, always the lighter sleeper than Brennan, was the first to wake up. His eyes snapped open, and he found himself staring at the ceiling of their bedroom. His mouth was a bit draw as he blurrily turned his head to the baby monitor that sat on his bedside table.<p>

For her part, Brennan's eyes slowly blinked open when she felt Booth's body waken. She'd assumed her favorite sleeping position the night before when they'd both fallen into bed exhausted—i.e., when Booth was on his back, she rolled over on her side, molded herself against the contour of his torso, and splayed one arm over his chest before resting her head on the crook of his shoulder.

Christine's cries continued to increase as Booth dragged himself out of the grogginess. Swallowing once, he looked down at Brennan and when he saw that she was awake, he said, "I'll get her."

"No," came the expected mumble as Brennan yawned. "It's my turn."

"I know that cry, Bones," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. "That's her 'I want daddy cry because I had a bad dream.'"

"No," Brennan said as she struggled to sit up in bed, her face contorted as she brain to fire up the neurons to combat his statement with logic. "She's probably just hungry or needs to be changed, Booth. I can go."

When she'd shifted off of him, he leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I know our daughter, Bones. Whatever's causing it, that cry isn't one that's because she's pissed off that she wants a late night snack or needs dirty diaper removal services and isn't getting it. That's her 'I'm pissed off because of something that rattled me, and I want to be loved and comforted and petted by Daddy' cry…so let me go. I'll be right back."

Brennan bit her lip as she watched him get out of bed. "You sure?" she asked as he cracked his back and yawned once he was upright.

"Yeah," he grinned as he padded to the bedroom door. "You can get the next one if it makes you feel better. Okay?" He winked at her once, not bothering to wait for her response.

About a half hour later, Brennan had almost dozed off when she heard Booth reenter the room and slid back into bed. She immediately gravitated towards him, and sighed in contentment as he pulled her on top of him.

"Better?" she murmured, not certain if she was talking about Christine or him now that he'd situated her on his chest.

"Yup," he said. "Much."

He paused and then asked, "Hey, Bones?"

"Yes?"

"Did you move her stuffed monkey from the crib to the changing table for some reason?" he questioned her.

Brennan, still half-asleep, licked her lips sleepily as she asked, "Huh?"

"It's just that when I was walking her, I noticed that she didn't have Mr. Monkey in the crib with her, and since it's one of her favorites I was wondering why it was sitting on the changing table instead of being in the crib with her. So, did you move it for some reason?" Booth responded.

"No," Brennan said through a half-yawn. "At least, I don't think I did. I mean, maybe…it's possible before I put her down I left it there so she could see him as a distraction when I changed her, and I'm just so tired I can't remember. Or, maybe my dad moved some stuff around when he was helping me with her before dinner, but I can't say for certain."

Booth was thoughtful for a moment as he ran his warm hands up and down the silky contours of her back. Brennan was wearing a light grey colored knit chemise that was made of some stretchy material that she loved because of its comfort and he loved because of how it felt under his hands.

"It's no big deal, I guess," Booth thought for a minute. Absentmindedly, his hands when a bit further down her back on one pass than he'd intended and cupped the curvy swell of her ass.

As soon as Brennan felt Booth's touch she let out a pleased sigh, causing Booth to smile.

"You still awake there, Bones?" Booth said as he repeated the movement, this time taking a bit more effort to use his fingers to slip up under her chemise and bikini panties. Encountering soft warmth, he began to knead small circles in her ass using only his fingertips.

"Mmmm," she sighed in a breathy contentment. "That feels good."

At her words, Booth brought his other hand to her back and began to mimic the movements he was making with one hand as he used the other.

"Twice as good," she corrected herself with a happy sigh.

"Bones," he whispered, twisting his thigh underneath her so that she could feel the hardness of his erection. "I'm not sleepy anymore."

She smiled a bit as she lifted her own body slightly off his chest, giving her just enough room to hook her thumbs in the waistband of his soft knit blue pinstriped boxers that he'd worn to bed. With just a tiny bit of the adroitness he'd seen her exhibit in the year since they'd started having sex, Brennan was able to shift the boxers off his hips and down his thighs. Taking the meaning behind her actions, Booth used his hands to push her chemise completely up so that it bunched around her waste and quickly peeled her panties partially down her thighs.

Reaching between them, Brennan grasped Booth's already hard shaft, her slender fingers wrapping around them as she gauged to see how ready he was.

"I'm set, baby," he huskily breathed into her ear. "You know that. I'm always ready to go when it's you."

She felt a small tingle at his compliment, but knew that he was far ahead of her in the process of banking their arousals.

"I'm not there yet," she whispered. "I need…just a bit of time?"

"How about both some time and some help?" Booth grunted as he tilted his head and reached for her mouth.

As soon as his lips were on hers, she opened her mouth wide and sought to drag his tongue as deeply as possible into her warm wetness. As soon as his tongue was inside her mouth, the sweetness of his kiss caused her heart rate to increase and the steady pulsing between her legs to throb as if she'd just activated an electrical current within her. As their tongues twisted over one another, and she enjoyed the way his soft lips pressed against hers, she was relatively distracted from what else he was doing until she felt the soft pad of his index finger against her clit.

"_Ohhmmmphhh_—" she half-mumbled into his kiss. However, Booth held firmly and his tongue didn't give her much room to separate them as he began to move his finger in firm and insistent circles over the top of her clitoris in a way that he knew increased her arousal.

After a few more moments of kissing and touching between them, when Booth moved his finger from Brennan's clit to her slit, he found her dripping with warm moisture. He grunted in satisfaction as he twisted his hips and slid into her at the same moment that she scooted closer towards him enough to seat him to the hilt in her. Her wetness drew him deep and deeper as they both fell into a familiarly comfortable rhythm. After a few moments, when she cracked first—somewhat surprisingly since he'd been the one to initiate their coupling and had been the one that was aroused earlier and for a longer time than she—she fell into a languidly pliant mess on top of him as he grunted, bucked his hips a few more times into her, and then let out a stifled cry of her name as he came inside her.

When they both were still, he reached for her, shifting slightly as she whimpered when he slipped out of her. Trying to soothe the loss, he wrapped his strong arms around her and pressed a tender kiss to her temple as they both drifted off once again into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	26. Ch 26: Losing His Badge and Gun

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 26 - Losing His Badge and Gun<span>

* * *

><p>Special Agent Ginny Shaw knew as soon as she'd opened her mouth in the breakroom that she should've kept it shut. But, she hadn't seen Dr. Lance Sweets in quite some time―but between the escalating case with Pelant and how she knew him to be busy planning his daughter's christening, Shaw was worried about Agent Booth. So, she'd done what any friend might do―she'd sought out another person to ask his opinion on their mutual friend's progress. Unfortunately, as they stood at the counter of the breakroom in the FBI field office within the Hoover Building, Shaw ran her mouth in front of one Special Agent Hayes Flynn. And, that ultimately, was how Shaw ended up sitting next to Sweets and Flynn within the conference room as they all awaited Booth's arrival.<p>

Flynn was an interesting character. He was in his mid-to-late forties with more of his field days behind him that ahead of him. The buzz around the Hoover grapevine was that he was fast=tracked to become as assistant director somewhere because of his efficient way at closing cases _and _managing personnel difficulties that arose within the field detail he supervised. Flynn wouldn't be considered by most people to be good looking in a traditional sense. He was tall, standing Shaw noticed, at about the same height as Agent Booth. But, whereas Booth was muscular and made his presence known as soon as he entered the room with his good looks and charming smile, Flynn was wiry and used his salt and pepper hair and piercing pale blue eyes to ooze professional distinguishment.

He also, Shaw, discovered had an _excellent _sense of hearing.

Shaw and Sweets had begun talking about Booth and the breach in FBI security that had allowed Pelant to dump remains within the confines of the Hoover Parker garage itself. Hayes had lingered as they chatted, the break in the Hoover's internal security being what caught his initial attention. By the time either Sweets or Shaw realized what had happened, Hayes had not only insinuated himself into the conversation, but become an active part of it. From there, it wasn't difficult for him to start pulling at the messy threads of what had been Booth's life since Christopher Pelant had come up for parole a few weeks earlier.

And, that was how Hayes found out not only about the resignation letter that Booth had submitted asking to be reassigned as the Bureau's liaison to the Jeffersonian, but also how agents had found a recording in Pelant's house after he'd disappeared of what appeared to be Booth's assaulting him in a chokehold, and finally a formal complaint and demand letter warning of a potential lawsuit for harassment from a Dr. Jakey in Crystal City, Virginia. With all of those issues combined, Hayes had talked to the Bureau's higher ups and been ordered to bring Booth in to let him explain himself.

That was how Booth found himself diverting mid-route from going to the church where he was supposed to meet Brennan and Max with the kids. Dressed in a crisply pressed grey suit, white Oxford shirt with French cuffs, and a simple black tie―all in all, a much more subdued outfit and less flashy than normal suit he would've worn if on duty, but he'd wanted to look good (read: a bit more traditional) for the photos that would be taken after Christine's christening―Booth hurried into the conference room. His eyebrows immediately lifted as he saw Sweets and Shaw sitting there, both looking incredibly nervous.

Once he sat down, Hayes explained why they were there and then began to ask Booth a series of questions.

"Did you submit your resignation letter as liaison to the Jeffersonian Institute in good faith?" Hayes asked.

Booth blanched, bit the inside of his lower lip, and then nodded. "Yes, I did, but you've gotta understand―"

"Is it true that you were the last FBI agent to see Christopher Pelant before he escaped from his home confinement?" Hayes questioned.

"I guess, yeah―"

"And, at that time, for some reason that you never felt it pertinent to share with the Bureau, you assaulted Mr. Pelant―" Hayes continued.

"Wait, it didn't happen like that―"

"Lastly, did you or did you not threaten one Dr. Seamus Jakey, a transplant surgeon at his office in Crystal City yesterday in the presence of Dr. Sweets?" Hayes asked Booth.

"He was trying to stonewall my investigation!" Booth suddenly snapped as he stood up from this conference chair where he was sitting. His face had flushed slightly red and his nostrils began to flare as he looked at Hayes. The other agent seemed quite unaffected by Booth's show of emotion and appeared content to let him run off at the mouth for as long as he wished. "I can't prove it yet but that sneaky little rat of a surgeon has connections to Christopher Pelant. And, I'll be damned if I'm not going to do what I need to do to protect my family. So, either tell me I'm reprimanded, take my badge and gun, or let's make a date to finish this joyful little conversation at a later date, but let me get out of here so I can be on time to my infant daughter's christening, okay?"

Hayes blinked at Booth and then nodded. "Okay," he said simply.

"Great," Booth muttered as he turned around and began to walk towards the conference room door.

"That is, Agent Booth," Hayes called after him. "Pending a formal inquiry by the Assistant Director, I'm authorized to inform you that you're hereby on administrative suspension. I need your badge and gun, please."

Booth stopped mid-step. Slowly, he turned around and looked at Hayes. Pursing his lips, his dark brown eyes burned with anger as he reached into his jacket and retrieved both his badge and gun. Walking towards the conference table, he tossed them in front of Flynn without ever breaking eye contact.

He then turned around and walked out the door.

By the time he'd made it down the hallway and into the elevator, some of his silent bravado failed as he realized if he was suspended that he wouldn't be able to take the Sequoia with him. Muttering to himself, he pulled out his cell phone and saw that he had one new text message that he'd obviously hadn't heard come in when he'd been in the meeting with Hayes.

Pressing the appropriate button to access the text message, Booth's whole world began to crack when he saw the single-worded message from Brennan flashing on his screen.

"HELP."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	27. Ch 27: Caught

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 27 - Caught<span>

* * *

><p>By the time she realized she was trapped and short on time before the pain overwhelmed her, she barely had enough time to send a simple four-letter text message to Booth and look around for a weapon of some kind to lose against him.<p>

And, she hadn't even supposed to have been there.

But, she was...and Pelant had seized the opportunity and struck.

Although she didn't believe in the spiritual meaning behind the christening ceremony, she _did _want it to be perfect for both Christine and Booth. And, that perfection would be marred, she knew, if they didn't have the white lace blanket that Booth's mother had handmade for each of her children's christenings. It was the same blanket that Booth, Jared, and Parker had each been wrapped in when they were christened, and Brennan knew that Booth wanted to use it for Christine's ceremony. Unfortunately, in the haste to get to the church on time, both Brennan and Booth had forgotten the blanket since it was still wrapped in the plastic wrap it had come back from the drycleaner's earlier in the week and left hanging on a hook near the front door. So, as soon as she realized that they'd forgotten it—something that she'd been fearing for a week and had reminded Booth to remind her about so that the blanket wouldn't be forgotten—she uttered a foul curse that made Parker giggle and her to sigh before she apologized for using such inappropriate language and contented herself with mentally castigating herself for her forgetfulness.

When Booth had gotten unexpectedly call into the Hoover, Brennan decided that she could make better time if she went back to the house by herself. So, she'd dropped Parker and Christine off at the church while she figured she'd needed about twenty minutes to get from the church, inside the house to grab the blanket, and to make the return trip. Although she was a bit nervous about leaving Parker and Christine under Max's supervision, when Father Keyes assured her that he'd keep an eye on them and that it would only be for twenty minutes, she nodded since she knew she didn't have any other choice if she wanted to return to get the blanket. And, since not having the blanket for the ceremony wasn't an option, since she wanted the christening to be perfect, she'd given each of them a quick kiss on the cheek before she hurried back to her Toyota Prius and peeled out of the church parking lot with all due haste.

And, that was how Christopher Pelant had managed to catch her with her guard down and her thoughts scattered. As soon as she'd unlocked the front door, entered the house, and disarmed their security system, she'd felt the world spin before her eyes as a sharp pain made her vision blur. She stumbled to her knees with a loud grunt shortly before she felt another stabbing pain connect with the base of her skull. After that point, she knew—even in the fog of pain that she felt she was keenly aware of the fact—that she couldn't put up a viable fight against Pelant's onslaught, despite her immense advanced skills in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. But, she _did _know that she could still run if she could just get one well-timed kick in against him.

So, that's what she did...or, at least, what she tried to do. And, miraculously, when she felt her foot connect with Pelant's crotch, heard him grunt, and fall down, she didn't waste time questioning her accidental effectiveness as she took off as quick as she could move.

She made it into their bedroom, a part of her mind wondering if she could make it to the gun safe Booth kept in their closet before Pelant caught up with her. For his part, Pelant watched Brennan struggle with obvious pleasure. He didn't feel a tremendous need to take off after her at any unnecessarily fast pace as she bolted up the stairs after he feigned that a blind kick she'd made had actually felled him more than it had.

As he watched her go, he knew she'd reach out to Booth.

"And, that's what I want, Dr. Brennan," he said quietly as he saw her scramble up the stairs after she thought she'd bought herself time with her random kick. "I want him here. So, call him. Call Agent Booth."

Pelant gave her approximately six minutes—more than enough time, he rationalized, for her to get up the stairs, find a hiding place, and call Booth…even in her disorientated state.

Quietly making his way up the stairs, he let instinct guide him. He was torn between checking the nursery first, but for some reason, he believed he knew both Booth and Brennan better than that.

_She'll want to fight me on her own ground_, he reasoned as he turned left when he reached the landing of the staircase. _So, that means…master bedroom, I think._

Brennan, who's head was throbbing by the time Pelant found her, could manage much more than a token protest when she grabbed a bronze statute from where she kept it on her vanity as a decoration. Trying to grasp it to hit him in the head as she'd been struck, Pelant only had to make a small dodge before her concussion made her fall to her feet in pain.

The last thing she remembered before she passed out was the brittleness of Pelant's laugh as it echoed in her bedroom, and the world went dark from the pain of it all.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	28. Ch 28: Glib Taunts

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 28 – Glib Taunts<span>

* * *

><p>His heart had started to tighten in his chest as soon as he bounded out of the Hoover Building, brushing past Sweets and ignoring the psychologist's attempts to speak with him in the stairwell when the elevator was taking too long, and as he stumbled into his car. He hastily juggled his keys and his cell phone as he tried to ring Brennan and found that of the eight times he rang her phone, eight times it went directly to voicemail. As he revved the Sequoia's engine, flipped on his lights and sirens—ignoring the fact that he was neither acting in the stead of the FBI or on an official call—and peeled out of the parking garage, Booth sent three more texts to Brennan and then called Max when he failed to get a response. Fortunately, for Booth's sanity, Max <em>did<em> pick up his phone. Once he'd managed to calm down enough to ask the question as to where Brennan actually was, he stayed on the line with Max only long enough to find out that Brennan ran back to the house to get the blanket, but should've been back by now. The knot in Booth's stomach tightened as he told Max he'd call him back once he was certain the kids were safe with Brennan's father.

As soon as he arrived at their house, Booth didn't feel any better when he saw Brennan's Prius parked in the driveway just like he'd seen it there a thousand times or more since they'd moved in a few weeks before Christine's birth.

_Nothing's wrong_, Booth told himself as he slammed on his breaks, yanked up the Sequoia's parking break, and grabbed for his keys from where they sat in the ignition. _She just…maybe she just had an accident in the house…she turned the wrong way and fell or something. It's not a big deal. Whatever it is…it's not a big deal and has nothing to do with Pelant._

Still, Booth took the precaution of unlocking Brennan's car and retrieving her .38 from the glove compartment. Checking to make certain the gun was loaded, he sighed when he nodded to himself and jangled his keys as he hurried towards the front door. Even as Booth took his keys and unlocked the front door, he quickly shifted so that he was a the ready, gun aimed high.

"Bones?" he called out, as he pointed the gun and began a systematic sweep of the downstairs. "Hey, Bones!" he tried again, attempting to keep his calm as he clear the first level of the house. "I'm here. You find the blanket yet?" he called out, hoping his voice sounded as casual as he'd tried to make it seem.

He hurriedly began to check each room in the house, starting with Parker's room and then the nursery. As he approached the far end of the hallway, he knew that there was only one room left where she could be if she was in the house.

"Bones?" he called softly, as he pushed open the half-closed door to their bedroom.

As soon as he entered the room, he tightened his grip on the gun and leveled his aim as he took in the sight that greeted his eyes.

Brennan was standing on a chair, hands and feet bound with duct tape. Her mouth was also covered with the tape. All of those images would enough to have made Booth very scared and very angry—if he already hadn't felt both. But, what truly made him nauseous was the noose he saw that Pelant had tied around her neck using fiber optic cable that he'd obviously yanked from the wall. He'd rigged the cable around their ceiling fan, which was now in the off position.

For his part, Pelant stood on the far side of the room watching with careful interest as he saved Booth's response to his handiwork.

"Ahhh, Agent Booth," Pelant said. "Right on time."

"Let her go," Booth grunted as he aimed the .38 directly at Pelant's chest. "Let her go—_now_."

Shaking his head, Pelant said, "I'm afraid I can't do that just yet, Agent Booth. Not when you and I have so much to talk about." He stopped and then gestured at Booth's direction as he said, "You can keep the gun if it'd make you feel better, but just so you know, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to try to shoot me right now."

"Why?" Booth grunted.

Tossing a small black piece of plastic that he held in his hand up in the air, Pelant smiled in a particularly smarmy way as he said, "You see this thing here, Agent Booth? This is a control keyed to my thumbprint only. It's the release on a small explosive that I may've accidentally wired under the chair there that's supporting the good doctor's weight. If she moves from that chair without my release of button number one to disarm the bomb, we all go boom." He stopped and then gave Booth a genial smile and said, "Of course, if you do as I ask and are calm and civilized, there's a greater chance that I'll press button number one rather than button number two here which will also disarm the bomb, but has the unfortunate side effect of starting the highspeed and supercharged motor that I've installed on your ceiling fan there. Again, I press that, and while you and I might still get out of this with our ability to drone on and on in are irksome voices intact, it's going to be very unlikely that Dr. Brennan's ability to lecture will ever quite be the same…assuming her neck doesn't snap in the process." He stopped and gave Booth a small self-depreciating shrug of his shoulders as he said, "I think I reinforced the beams in your attic that last time I was here with enough counterbalance so that the fan should be able to strangle her properly without breaking her neck, but I'm not too certain on that part since I was always more of a software kinda guy than one who did as well with hardware. I mean, I did _try, _but—"

"What do you want?" Booth grunted at Pelant.

Again, he chuckled as he said, "Oh, I should think that obvious, Agent Booth. I want the world to know the truth about you and Dr. Brennan here…what you did…and why you got away with it."

"If that's all you wanted, then why change MOs like you have since you killed Inger Johansson and Ezra Krane and God knows how many other people?" Booth asked.

Pelant considered his question for a minute and then said, "Not that I'm saying I had anything to do with any of those murders—or _any _murders, now that you mention it—but, if I did…purely from a hypothetical standpoint, why would what I'm doing now be a change in my MO?"

Rolling his eyes, Booth took on a snarky tone as he said, "Come on here, Chrissy…let's be honest. You've always wanted to wreck murder and mayhem in the grand scheme of telling the truth. But, in the last few months, you've gotta admit that you've changed up your game a bit. I mean, the biblical stuff? I mean, okay—I expect that from wackos in their remote trailer parks in the wilds of Colorado or Texas, or hell, even someplace like Florida. But, here? In D.C.? Come on…and then, what's with you obsessing over Bones and I? I mean, I know you think we're a cute couple and all, but I thought you liked making your point clear and concise and then moving on to the next great truth you want to reveal." He stopped and then narrowed his eyes in a condescending way as he said, "Or, did you just find out that you're a little too obsessed with Bones and I that you're focus has been distracted, huh?"

Pelant considered Booth's words for a minute and then smiled congenially. "I'd be lying if I didn't admit it when you're right, you _are _right, Agent Booth. I do find you and Dr. Brennan here fascinating…and I _have _spent a great deal of time studying you and lining up the perfect plot to reveal _your _truths. It's really been some of my better work…it's just sad that you had to go and mess up my time table with that little stunt you pulled. I mean, do you know how much effort I put into setting up the pieces that were going to make it look like Dr. Brennan here was guilty of murdering one of her friends?" Pelant pursed his lips for a minute and then said, "I mean, I _did _have some fun when I gutted Dr. Ethan Sawyer and left him to be a tasty appetizer for the wolves and such that frequent the park where I dumped his bones—but, even still. You should've seen the surveillance tape I put together…and all the other evidence that would've sent the beautiful and intelligent Dr. Brennan straight to the gas chamber. It really would've been a work of art." He stopped and then glared at Booth as he said with another scowl, "Of course, all that's useless now, isn't it, Agent Booth…and it's all your fault. So, after you and I've had our little chat, I'm going to make you pay for what you did and then reveal the truth of it for all the world to see. Now, what do you have to say about _that_?"

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note<span>: For those who are wondering, there's only one chapter and the epilogue left in this bad boy. The plan is for me to post chapter 29 later tonight and the epilogue in the morning so that the story will be in the can before the season 7 finale air's tomorrow night. That's also the reason why the quick updates have been coming over the last few days. I've done things that way I can say that the story was done before the show that inspired this fic originally actually aired. So, we're down the home stretch. Bear with me until we get to the finish line. It's in sight…promise!


	29. Ch 29: The Reason Why He Was So Angry

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 29 – The Reason Why He Was So Angry<span>

* * *

><p>Booth stared at Pelant for a moment, and in that time, he suddenly knew what had spun the serial killer out of control and caused him to change his MO. He narrowed his eyes as he considered how best to proceed since he was relatively surprised that Pelant had found out about what Booth had cobbled together from the hacker's own past to use against him if necessary.<p>

He was quiet for a minute and then shrugged his shoulders as he said, "You know, Chrissy, the one thing that I would've thought that this grand epic search for truth would've taught you is that everyone has a weakness…even you."

"Like your weakness is your picture perfect little family here, Agent Booth?" Pelant suddenly spat out, for the first time showing a bit of emotion at Booth's words. He pursed his lips for a minute and then, when he thought he'd regained a bit more of his momentarily misplaced control and composure, he nodded at the FBI agent before he said, "You know, I've been watching you very, _very _closely for a very long time. And, not just you and Dr. Brennan here. I like to think I've gotten to know Parker and Christine pretty well, too." He stopped and then said, "For example, Parker's a great kid. You know, I had a nice chat with him the other day about why I agree with him that Batman's a better comic book here than the Green Lantern. Did you know that about your son, Agent Booth? That he doesn't have the same affinity for the Green Lantern Corps as you do? I can't say I blame him though—he's right. Batman is a better hero. It's sad, too, you know that the clue I gave him to give to you is now worthless since my little epic with Ethan Sawyer's murder is all for naught now. But, even still, he's a great kid, and I enjoyed talking to him." Pelant stopped for a minute before he smiled again and continued, "And, then there's Christine. I bet you didn't know that Christine stops squirming on the changing table if she has Mr. Monkey to look at when she's getting her diaper changed, but isn't as enthralled by him when she's in the crib. She much prefers to cling to her purple wool blanket when she's in the crib, which is why I moved Mr. Monkey to the changing table for you the other day." He stopped and then added arrogantly, "You're welcome, by the way."

The muscle in Booth's jaw began to twitch as he contemplated just how far Pelant's surveillance of his home and family had gone. However, he quickly pushed away and buried any anger he felt as he tried to figure out a way to handle the situation so that he and Brennan would come through it relatively unscathed. He knew he needed time, so if he could just keep Pelant talking, he knew he'd figure out some way to get them all out of it in one piece.

"Ya know, Chrissy," Booth tried again to bait the killer. "I know you've been spending all this time fixating on my kids, but maybe things wouldn't be so bad for you if you maybe turned around and spent so time thinking about your own son instead of doing this whole mass murdering thingy that you've had going on for a while."

This time, it was Pelant's turn to let his jaw hardened as he said, "I don't have a son, Agent Booth. I never did, remember?"

"I remember that you got pushed out of Laurel Deaver's life before she gave birth to Nicholas," Booth said, suddenly referencing the point that Booth had been investigating since the team's first run-in with Pelant in an attempt to find leverage that he could use against the killer if things got too desperate. "I know that her three-year old little boy thinks that Laurel's husband Danny is his biological father…not some creep tutor that she went to bed with one drunken night during finals week at MIT when she was desperate to pass her Calculus final."

"You never should've involved them with this," Pelant growled, his face reddening a bit at Booth's taunts. "The truth of my past has nothing to do with this. I did nothing illegal as far as Laurel and Nicholas are concerned…which is a lot more than can be said for you two...no, I'm nothing like you two here in the since that you've both gotten how many murderers and criminals off? Including, most insultingly, the good doctor's own father here…who just happens to be the same man who was involved with the bank robbery that resulted in the death of Laurel's father to begin with, may I remind you, Agent Booth...if you didn't already know that finer point of this complicated tangle of events that has brought us all here together today?"

Booth's eyes darted to Brennan's as her own blue irises suddenly widened in response at the revelation. Booth had known about Laurel's ties to Pelant, but suddenly the I's were dotted and the T's were all crossed as he'd finally found the missing piece of the puzzle. Suddenly, the crucial connection that he'd been looking for since Pelant had targeted Booth and Brennan's family so specifically that Booth had known there had to be some personal motivation for the attacks became blatantly obvious.

He was about to open his mouth to say something when a gruff voice suddenly cut him off and said, "Listen, kid, if you've got a problem with me, then you should've come to _me _first…and left my daughter and her family out of it."

By the time Booth's brain processed the words that had been spoken from seemingly no where, a scuffle erupted as Max Keenan jumped through the open window and tackled Pelant to the ground.

As the two men scuffled, Max yelled to Booth, "Get Tempe down!"

As good a shot as he was, given how fast Pelant and Max were struggling, Booth knew he didn't have a clear shot. Instead, he lowered the .38 and reached into his pocket with his free hand as he pulled out his pocketknife and muttered a silent prayer to God that the blade was sharp enough to cut the fiber optic cable noose that was around Brennan's neck.

She grunted as he moved to help her, tilting her head as she desperately tried to convey to Booth that he should help her father and not her.

Sighing, he pulled some of the cable towards him as he reached up and started to cut. As he worked, he muttered, "Now's kinda not the time to be arguing with me, Bones, okay? First things first."

A series of punches, grunts, and moving furniture served as the background soundtrack to his rescue of his partner. He'd only managed to get the noose cut through when he heard Pelant give out one last sharp cry of triumph, his eyes darted to Max's, he saw the older man's eyes lock on Brennan as he mouthed the words 'love you, baby girl', and then he muttered, "Get her out of here, Booth!"

The tell-tale high pitch of the bomb made all the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight on end as he realized that Pelant had apparently set off a third button that he'd failed to mention to Booth in their original conversation—one that would instantly detonate the bomb rigged under Brennan's chair instead of instantly disarming it. Knowing that his only hope (read: slim chance) was to get them into the safety of the bathroom, even as Max pushed Pelant closer to the chair at the same time that Booth pulled he and Brennan away, no one was really certain what would happen next as the house rocked when a ball of flame suddenly exploded in front of them.

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>


	30. Epilogue: The View from the Other Side

To Come Through

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: ::stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. After Pelant's latest threats against the team, Booth reaches his and does something that pushes his partnership with Brennan past the point of no return. Set post-7x13.

Logistical Notes on the Story: Set at the end of season 7. Beware of such spoilers. Enter at your own risk.

* * *

><p><span>Epilogue – The View from the Other Side<span>

* * *

><p><em><span>One Year Later<span>_

Brennan still didn't like churches. She'd found them to be mildly interesting before her daughter had been born. But, given what had happened to her entire family the last time that they'd planned for Christine's christening—combined with the fact that she'd ended up in another church once again for her father's funeral after he'd sacrificed himself to take out Christopher Pelant—well, suffice to say that she'd had her fill of churches and discussions of good and evil and the prices to be paid to maintain the balance between each.

_Beloved in the Lord, when the Savior sent out his Apostles, He said unto them, "Go ye, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved."_

_Through baptism men are cleansed from their sins, made partakers in the meritorious redemption of Jesus Christ, taken into the society of the faithful and into the Church of Christ, fitted to obtain a share in all the treasuries of grace, with the management and administration of which Christ has entrusted His church._

She'd agreed, of course, to reschedule the baptism. She knew it was important to Booth, and so even though she wished she could forget everything related to Christopher Pelant—including Christine's aborted christening ceremony—she'd reluctantly agreed after she felt a reasonable amount of time had passed between the sadness of the day on which her father had been murdered and the day Christine's soul (according to Booth's belief system, anyway) was accepted into the Christian fold.

_When an adult is to be baptized, she must be first instructed in the doctrine of Christ, and profess her faith in it, and declare herself ready to observe all that Christ hath commanded, and to renounce all that is in opposition to the doctrine and commandments of Christ. But, it is in accordance with the intention of the Lord, who lovingly called little children to come unto him, that the infant children of Christian parents should be taken up into the company of the faithful by baptism, and soon after their natural birth should be born again of water and the Holy Ghost._

_Before baptism, the sponsors must make a confession of Christian faith in the name of the child, and declare their readiness, in accordance with the commandment of Christ, at all times firmly to withstand the devil, and sin, and its enticements. It is then the duty of the parents (where needful, with the assistance of the sponsors) to take care that the child, so soon as it be grown up, be instructed in the truths of the Christian religion, be directed into obedience to the commandment of Christ, and to the avoidance of all evil; and so educated, that all through her afterlife she may in word and deed acknowledge the faith, which was acknowledged in his name by her godparents at baptism, and may fulfill the promise which they have vowed in her place._

The months after Max's sacrifice had saved his daughter and granddaughter from the clutches of Christopher Pelant had been difficult for the pair. Brennan still couldn't get over the fact that the last image she had of her father before he'd been blown to bits by Pelant's bomb was a singular look of pure love. She held it against and constantly chastised herself for never really believing just how much Max had felt for and loved both her and Christine. In the aftermath of the bomb's explosion in their home, they'd needed time to recover more emotionally than physically since both of them had walked away with only a few broken bones, lacerations, bruises, and second-degree burns. They'd even repaired and rebuilt the damage that had been done to their home before true evidence that the emotional trauma Brennan had sustained during the incident had actually begun to heal.

Booth had tried to help her as best as he could, but he knew that her way to grieve was to take what time and space she needed. And, so he'd given that to her as he'd supported her during the time she took to deal with the death of her father. It hadn't been easy for their relationship to survive such a hard hit, but because they loved each other and were family, Brennan and Booth had kept putting one foot in front of the other. After Max's sacrifice, family became even more important for them, and neither was willing to give up on their family after the price Brennan's father had paid to make sure Christine kept both her mother and father. They took each day as it came, neither one pressing the other for something that the other couldn't give, and slowly came to find some sense of piece over their horrible loss. Of course, it wasn't like Christine's rapid growth into a toddler terror on two feet didn't help distract them both as time passed.

_The Lord himself has appointed baptism with water, accompanied by the invocation of the Trinity, to be the outward sign of the grace which is communicated through this blessed sacrament. It is thereby intimated that as the body is purified by water, so the soul is purified by this sacrament from whatever in it is displeasing to God. But, even in the most primitive ages of the Christian church the custom prevailed of adding certain prayers and ceremonies at the public administration of baptism, in addition to what Christ himself ordained, which are adapted to make clearer to us the meaning and importance of this act._

_Which holy act, as I am now on the point of commencing, I beseech those present to unite themselves with me in prayer for this child, that the Lord who now takes her into the number of His elect, may preserve her, and evermore defend her and strengthen her with His grace, that she may grow up to be both the joy of his parents, and a worthy member of the Christian church _

_I miss him_, Brennan thought as she let Father Keyes' voice drone on while she remembered where her father's casket had sat during the memorial service that Booth had arranged on her behalf. _He left me again, and I know he did it because he was protecting me, but that still didn't make it hurt any less than…or now. God, how I miss him._

_And, now I ask thee Christine Angela Booth, dost thou desire to obtain eternal life in the church of God through faith in Jesus Christ?_

Brennan stood next to Booth as she watched Jared and Padme holding their daughter. Booth had asked them to both serve as Christine's official sponsors and godparents since the right required that both the godfather and godmother needed to be of the Catholic faith. Christine's uncle and aunt had been thrilled to be able to be there for Booth and family in the months after Max's death in a way that hadn't been before his passing.

They looked firmly at the baby and then back at the priest as they said in one strong voice, "I do."

At their words, Booth's hand sneaked out and slowly wrapped around Brennan's. She felt some modicum of comfort as he interlaced her fingers with his, and the priest continued speaking.

_The Lord Himself hath said; "This is life eternal, that they may know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent. If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself." May the powers of darkness, which the divine Redeemer hath vanquished by His cross, retire before thee, that thou mayest see to what hope, and to what an exceeding glorious inheritance among the saints, thou art called. Let us pray._

Taking what comfort she could from her partner's strength, Brennan was able to blink away the minute tears that had started to cause her eyes to water. Still a bit melancholy, she squeezed his hand once to reassure him that she was okay. He looked on in concern, apparently unconvinced so she gave him a slight nod to reaffirm her original answer.

_Almighty, everlasting God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, look graciously down upon this child, whom thou hast called to the grace of regeneration by the Holy Ghost; banish all darkness from her heart, and vouchsafe unto her the holy Spirit of thy Son, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Holy Spirit evermore. Amen._

After the priest completed the ritual by bathing Christine's forehead with Holy Water, Brennan couldn't help but smile as she heard her daughter squeal in a combination of what she knew was protest, annoyance, and curiosity at the sensation she was experiencing.

This time, a true smile cracked Brennan's lips as she watched when Padme bounced her goddaughter's yelling form in her arms. Tilting her head, she placed a light kiss on Booth's jawline as she whispered, "We're okay."

Booth tilted his head and looked at Brennan with an arched eyebrow as he asked, "Really?"

Slowly, she nodded again and smiled at another one of Christine's excited shrieks and said, "Yeah. Really."

* * *

><p><span>-The End-<span>

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note: <span>So, there we have it ladies and gentlemen. Now, a few notes and comments to share.

First, I must give credit where credit is due and admit that I borrowed the wording of the Catholic right from an appropriate source. So, I didn't write that part, but I promise it is appropriate as far as one of the older (but still used) versions of a Roman Catholic baptismal right. I also have to admit, I loved the echoes of the rite's wordings on good and evil given what the focus of this story was.

Second, I must also give credit to Emily Deschanel. The title from this story was taken from one of her responses that she gave in an interview during the night of the Bones Panel at the Paley Center in March 2012. She was asked by one of the reporters about the upcoming season 7 finale. Although she (obviously) could only give a vague response as to what happened, she did share that whatever happened between Booth & Brennan that their relationship would be strong enough to survive or "to come through" to the other side of things.

Last, I wrote this story beginning a full two months before the season 7 finale actually aired. Most of it was my guess as to what might happen, with only a few vague spoilers and such there. Obviously, as we'll find out tonight, aside from the fact that Booth and Brennan face off with Pelant in some grand showdown, I know I've probably gone slightly far afield. In either case, I hope this fic was an amusing diversion if nothing else for some of you. I have to admit that I did rather enjoy my experiment in posting shorter chapters more often, so I may do that again at some point in the future.

For now, onwards and upwards. Thanks for reading, and if you feel like it, I wouldn't mind hearing everyone's thoughts on how things wrapped up. Take care!~


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